Miracles
by AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: Two months after his death, Mrs. Lovett has to deal with the result of granting her husband's last wish. To her utter surprise, none other than Sweeney Todd is willing to help her.
1. Prologue

_Here it is, my third Sweenett multi chapter fanfic! As always, I hope that you will like it =D_

_In this story, the relationship between Nellie and Albert Lovett is probably described differently than what you have in mind, but this is just one of my interpretations. There's an entire background story to this, taking place in the old days between Nellie, Benjamin and Albert. T__here'll be some hints of that in this story and maybe I'll write the story of the old days as a prequel once. _

_But first things first. The chapters of this story will be short, but there'll be quite a lot of chapters and I'll try to update every three or four days. This story is t-rated in the beginning, but some of the last few chapters will probably be m-rated. _

* * *

**Miracles**

_Given all the facts of circumstance  
I did not believe that a romance  
Would show itself in all this dark and blue  
__That's the only place I ever knew_

Miracle - Ilse De Lange

Prologue

"This can't be true," Mrs. Lovett muttered to herself. "This can't be bloody true."

But the calendar in front of her was not lying. It was exactly ten weeks ago that she had encircled a few days on the yellowing paper, and there had been no marks since then. _Ten weeks_.

The baker collapsed on a couch in her parlor, a protective hand over her stomach, just in case. She closed her eyes, wondering how this was possible. Yes, Albert and she had slept together, but that had been only once, she argued with herself. Only once, but that _was_ two months ago, not long before her husband had died and Sweeney Todd had arrived. How one's life can change within mere months…

And how one's family can change. Only a while ago she had nothing but a dying husband. Now the love of her life had come back; not to _her_, but at least he had returned. Since a few days ago she was taking care of the young boy that was all alone in the world now thanks to Mr. Todd's dangerous nature and his dislike for blackmail. And knowing the barber's dislike for _her_, she had feared that Toby would be the closest to a child of her own she'd ever have. But now, she suddenly wasn't so sure about that anymore.

"Damn," she whispered, for once glad that no one in the empty parlor could hear her. "I'm going to have to tell him, just in case…"

It was very tempting not to say anything to Mr. Todd, but if her suspicions were correct, he would find it out sooner or later anyway. Not that he actually looked at her, but even _he _was doubtlessly going to notice if her belly started to expand significantly during the coming seven months. This would inhibit her ability to work long days as she did now, and what would the customers say? Most of them had known how her husband's body had failed him during the last part of his life and no one would probably believe that he actually was the cause for her trouble.

"Albert, you bloody bastard," the usually calm and overly-kind woman hissed, "how could you do this?!"

She didn't want to think of how she herself was to blame for her current situation.

The baker beat her fist against the couch in frustration and cursed as the other hand intuitively remained lying on her belly.

She could not believe it. But her body wasn't lying, was it? Even yesterday, when she had scrutinized her body in a mirror in the hope of finding the reason that Mr. Todd didn't like her, she had found quite a few things that she didn't like about herself and that the barber probably hated, but none of them had to do with the size of her belly. She was just as skinny as she had always been. That meant that there was nothing inside of her body that shouldn't be there, or did it?

Truth to be told, Mrs. Lovett didn't know anything about babies. She had been very fond of little Johanna Barker, but Lucy monopolized her daughter and Nellie's own mother had kicked her out of the house before she had shared that kind of trivial information with her daughter.

"Well, little one," she whispered, more gently now, while she petted her stomach, "if you are there indeed, you won't get the same treatment, even though you're not exactly supposed to be there."

She stressed the last part of her words while pointing accusingly at her belly with the other hand, but the gesture missed conviction. She didn't want her suspicions about her situation to be true, but at the same time… it _was _her dream to end up with Sweeney Todd and a few children in a house by the sea. She did care a lot for Toby, she loved him if he were her own son which he, in fact, wasn't. But this child, if it were actually there… at least a _part_ of her dream would come true.

Mrs. Lovett made herself more comfortable on the couch, thinking thoroughly. She _had _been feeling different the past few weeks, but she had blamed Mr. Todd's sudden arrival and the endless flow of emotion that followed within her for that. But what if it wasn't only Sweeney's unexpected presence that caused the inner turmoil of hormones? In a way, it all made sense. So much sense in fact, that there was no room for doubt anymore.

Slowly, the baker stood up and began pacing through the room, muttering quietly. More and more it dawned on her that, unless there was something very wrong with her body, it wouldn't be too long before Toby wasn't the only child in her house anymore.

Deciding that there was no use fooling herself any longer, she headed for Mr. Todd's barbershop, climbing the stairs to his room more carefully than she usually did.

"You can better help me with this, little thing," she said quietly while she made her way upstairs. "I can't deal with that man all by myself."

For a few seconds, she lingered right before the door, hesitating. The foresight of confronting the barber scared her, because she knew very well that he wouldn't be pleased, not at all. But there was nothing she could do about it anymore. And even if she could change her situation, she was suddenly rather sure that she didn't want to.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door of the tonsorial parlor (there was no reason to anger him before she was even inside, after all) and entered quickly, before she lost her courage.

Sweeney was standing near the huge window, staring outside and seemingly (or actually, she was never sure of that) unaware of her presence.

"Mr. Todd," she said, walking over to him. She positioned her between him and the window, blocking his view so she would hopefully capture his attention.

She hadn't thought of how to tell him exactly, but judging his current lack of interest, a direct approach seemed to be the easiest and least embarrassing choice.

"I'm pregnant."


	2. Chapter 1

_Thanks to everyone who read the first part, and most of all to those who reviewed as well. I am pleasantly surprised by your enthusiasm for the story this far and I hope you'll continue to like it =D_

_I'm sorry it took me so long to update; this was far from the three or four days I had mentioned earlier. A few things went wrong but here I am, posting this chapter on my birthday ;)_

* * *

Chapter 1

"You are _what_?" Sweeney said, his eyes narrow dangerously.

"You heard me," Mrs. Lovett said timidly. Fear was taking over her as the barber stared at her with disgust written on his face.

"You little slut," he hissed, his eyes moving from her face to her belly and, very briefly, lower. "You deceiving _bitch_! How could you?!"

"I'm not a slut," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes while she wondered why he had to react like this. She knew that he wouldn't be happy with the news, but _this_…

"Not a slut?" he asked, his voice threateningly low. "Then what do you call a woman who sleeps around and finds herself pregnant? Do you have even an idea who the father is?"

"I don't sleep around," she answered, her voice trembling. "And I know very well who the father is."

"And then," Sweeney said darkly, approaching her, forcing her to step back, "would you be so kind to share that information with me?"

"Not that it is any of your business," she spat, her anger with him because of his cruel behavior stronger than fear, "the child is…"

"Not any of my business?!" he yelled, causing Mrs. Lovett to jump in shock. "Not any of my bloody business? It is, now that you are pregnant and unable to work for a year."

"What?!" she screamed back, her fury provoked by the heartless words of the man in front of her. "Is that all you can think of? I don't like this myself, but there's nothing I can do about it. And just in case you didn't notice, I _did_ work the past few weeks. I _am_ baking those bloody pies all the time, only to help you, and I intend to continue doing so for at least a few more months. That Lucy spent nine months in bed, doesn't mean that I will too."

The moment she said those last words, she knew that it was a terrible mistake, but it was too late already to take them back. Sweeney was truly angry now and terror, more intense than she had ever felt when he was around, overwhelmed her. In his fit of rage, the man truly was a demon.

When he stepped closer to her, she closed her eyes and folded her arms over her stomach, intuitively protecting the innocent creature inside of her.

The blow against her head came as a shock. She had expected the barber to place a razor against her throat, perhaps even to apply some pressure to create a small wound, but she had not thought that he would ever hit her, let alone when he knew that she was with a child.

The violent movement made her feel dizzy and she lost her balance. She would've fallen to the ground if it weren't for the huge chest that had contained Pirelli's body not so very long ago. She leant on the wooden box, breathing heavily, nothing but chaos and raw emotion in her mind.

"Get rid of the child," he hissed, towering over her. "There are plenty of people in this goddamn city that can 'help' you with that."

The tears were falling freely now, dropping on the wood of the chest she was still leaning on.

"Or else," he continued, his voice filled with so much anger that she could hardly hear the words properly, "I'll do it myself. There is nothing between me and my vengeance, and especially not…"

Sweeney never had the chance to finish his sentence. His word had pushed Mrs. Lovett beyond fear into an irrational woman, protecting her child at all cost; not just _a _seemingly crazy female, but a _mother_. She loved the man, she truly did, but this… this went too far.

"You," she whispered, black and red dots of anger clouding her vision, "I curse the day that you dared coming back here, only to use me to get your vengeance. If you ever threaten my child or me again, I'll make sure you regret it."

In that moment, Mrs. Lovett was possessed by anger like usually only the barber could feel and, hardly aware of her own actions and the stupidity of it, she stepped to the dumbfounded man and slapped him hard in the face.

There were not many things in her life that had been more satisfying than the feeling of her palm hitting Sweeney's cheek. But before she had the chance to enjoy it, the power of her rage made her impulsively burst out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Half a minute later, Mrs. Lovett rushed into her bedroom, not even bothering to be quiet in order not to wake Toby. The boy was sleeping on the couch and she didn't want him to know about her pregnancy yet. She hoped that he hadn't heard anything of her fight with Mr. Todd, but he probably had not, thanks to all the gin he drank each night.

Hastily, Nellie closed the door of the room and fell on her bed, burying her face in the pillow. As she calmed down slowly, it dawned on her what exactly she had said and done, and what consequences this was going to have. Horror welled inside of her as she vaguely recalled how she had challenged the barber, and had even physically attacked him. He deserved every bit of it, of course he did, but no matter how much he had been asking for it with that horrible behavior of his, _he _would never let her get away with it. If she wanted to survive this, if she wanted the _baby _to survive, she had to flee for Mr. Todd and his punishment for her behavior as soon as she possibly could.

But first, she needed to sleep. The tormenting fight upstairs had exhausted her already tired being even more.

"Just a few hours," she said softly, "then we'll leave this damned place forever and leave that madman all by himself. Let's see how long he survives without me. But Toby will help us, he's such a good…"

But she was asleep already, arms hugging her pillow and tears still running down her cheeks.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sweeney Todd collapsed in his barber chair, a hand pressed against his still glowing cheek, and remained sitting there for several hours, staring off into space.

There was nothing unusual about this, but the subject of his thoughts was not his stolen family or the ones responsible for that, but the baker who had been so good to him the past two months. She had given him food even though she was starving herself and she had quite an important role in his devilish schemes. But she also happened to be the woman who threatened all that he still lived for by finding herself pregnant.

It was a good thing that she had fled from the room after she had slapped him, because he would've killed her without a second's thought if he'd had the chance. He cut the throats of unsuspecting customers, beat one of his former apprentices unconscious with a kettle and slaughtered this man once he was aware of what was happening to him. Imagine what he could do the woman who sabotaged his plans and, even worse, offended his sweet, dead wife.

But as the madness that his rage had caused slowly disappeared, it dawned on him that he had gone too far. He didn't feel guilty, not at all, but he did see that his actions weren't entirely justified and that he had to make sure somehow that she didn't actually attempt to murder him or go to the law to have him arrested. Whether he liked it or not, he needed her to make sure that his killings would remain undetected. This was more important than having someone who worked from six in the morning to twelve in the night for his cause. Even if she didn't bake the pies, he needed her basement to hide the bodies until he would find a different way to get rid of them.

Although it was in the middle of the night, he presumed that she wasn't sleeping, but thinking of a way to protect herself against him, the man who threatened her. He vaguely admitted to himself that he would do the very same thing if he were her, but luckily he wasn't her and, whether he had been right or not, he had to interfere before she would actually ruin his plans to kill the Judge and the Beadle.

He quietly left his barber shop and headed for the parlor, where Toby was sleeping or rather, lying unconsciously, an empty bottle of gin still in his hand. Sweeney vaguely wondered what kind of mother would allow a boy to drink like that, even if he was an adopted son and not a child of her own.

But he wasn't there to consider Mrs. Lovett's lack of motherly qualities; he was there to find a way to persuade the baker not to cause any damage to his plan of vengeance.

She wasn't in the parlor and given the time, he presumed that she was in her bedroom, brooding to find a way to get him out of life.

Sweeney had never been further into Mrs. Lovett's home than the parlor, but he found his way to her bedroom quite easily. The part of the building where she lived wasn't as big as he had expected it to be.

Soundlessly, he pushed open the door of her bedroom. It wasn't entirely right just to march into the most personal part of her house like he was doing, but he had already beaten her and called her 'a little slut', so he guessed it didn't really matter.

To his surprise, he wasn't attacked by a mad baker with a rolling pin the second that he stepped over the threshold. In fact, Mrs. Lovett was sleeping, the light of the single candle on the nightstand reflected in the drying tears on her cheek and one hand was resting on her stomach.

The difference between the way he had last seen her couldn't be any larger and as he watched her lying there so innocently, he almost felt bad for what he had done. Well, almost… somewhere deep inside of him, he _did_ feel sorry for beating her. It was her fault that he had lost control however, which had caused him to act the way he had done. She should've known that it was a _very _bad thing to say unkind things of his late wife – even if they were true.

He wasn't looking forward to confront his landlady, but if he wouldn't guarantee her cooperation now, he might never have the chance again.

"Mrs. Lovett," he said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Mrs. Lovett."

Even though he said her name quite softly, she woke up immediately. Her eyes widened in fear when she saw him and she tried to move away from him, but Sweeney didn't let her. If she escaped now, if she would disappear from Fleet Street, it would be all over for him.

"Mrs. Lovett," he said urgently, reaching for her wrist, "listen to me."

He had expected her not to surrender so easily, but she luckily ceased her resistance when he pinned her arm against the mattress.

"I'm here to talk," he added when he noticed her trembling form and frantic breath.

At those words, Mrs. Lovett opened her eyes in disbelief. To show that he didn't intend to kill her or do something similarly terrible, he let go of her arm.

"You must not speak badly of my wife," he said slowly. "You know what that does to me."

She opened her mouth, but he gave her a harsh look, silencing her.

"Even if what you say is true, you will _not _speak badly of my wife. But," he continued, his voice less hostile, "if you hadn't provoked me, I would've reacted differently to the news of your… situation."

"Alright," she said, after a moment of silence. "But if you _ever _threaten my child again, or even raise your voice…"

She didn't specify the details, but she didn't have to. He was very aware of the major part she played in his schemes and that she could ruin it all.

"What you said," she continued, sensing that the barber actually was listening to her for once, "was truly terrible."

Inwardly he sighed, wondering how long he was going to have to endure this and how many times he would have to force an apology over his lips.

"I shouldn't have said it," he replied, "it was… wrong."

He hoped that she would be satisfied with this. He found that for once, Mrs. Lovett _was _quite intimidating, even now that she was lying in bed and he towered over her.

"Of course it's 'wrong'," she said bitterly. "And all the people you kill, that's 'wrong' as well?"

Sweeney sighed. Persuading her was going to be harder than he had feared.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"You really don't understand, do you?" Mrs. Lovett asked after a moment of silence.

"Don't understand what?" Sweeney asked in return, wondering what it was _this _time.

"Why I'm so bloody angry with you."

"I just offended you and beat you, so I think I do understand," he said blankly.

"You stupid man," she said, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Do you think its only that?"

Before he had even opened his mouth, she continued talking, making it clear that he should prepare himself very quickly for a long speech.

"Do you think that I like to hide mass murderers and the evidence of his crime in my very own house, only to look after this man and bake pies of said evidence?"

"I never heard you complain before," he said, shrugging.

"You really are impossible. Even if I don't complain until it reaches through your thick skull, that doesn't mean that I like it. I thought you were still reasonable enough to see that, but apparently not."

"Shut up," he snarled. The woman's voice was giving him a headache, just like it had done so often in the past. "I don't want to argue." Well, it was not a complete lie.

"But sometimes you leave me no choice."

"Damn it woman, what do I have to do to make you forget about it?"

This captured her interest at last. For a few seconds, she stared at him, dumbfounded, but then she recovered quickly.

"I want you to promise that you will never harm or threaten my child or me. And an actually honest apology might help."

"Alright," he said, slowly losing his patience. "I promise that I won't hurt you or the baby."

He didn't want to promise anything, he wanted to be free to punish this treacherous woman whenever he thought she deserved it. But with that attitude, he was never going to get over with this, and they both knew it.

"Swear it."

"I swear it."

"Swear it on Lucy."

Nothing but silence followed, until Mrs. Lovett sighed deeply.

"See? You can't be trusted. You just made a promise that you did not intend to…"

"I swear on Lucy that I will not hurt you and the child."

It wasn't the desperation that slowly welled inside of him that made him say it. It was because of _her,_ that damned baker herself. Not because she basically forced him to say it, but because he recognized a chance within her, one of a kind that he didn't like at all and that he was responsible for.

They stared at each other for several seconds, and then Mrs. Lovett smiled lightly.

"Good," she said coldly, "and now, get out of my room."

"No."

"I beg you pardon?!"

"You heard me," he said, mimicking the way she had spoken to him earlier.

"And why would you not go? Because you suddenly fell deeply in love with me and want to spend the night with me?"

He noted the sarcasm but he was completely unaware of the sadness in her voice, which was so close to the surface of her words.

"No," he said, shuddering at the mere thought, "I want to know the truth. I want to know who the father is."

"The child is Albert's, just like I tried to say before you…"

"You're lying," he snarled. "From what you told me about him… it can't be him."

"Do you really believe that I 'slept around' and behaved like 'a little slut'?!" she asked, staring daggers at him.

"Don't even try to fool me," he said, inwardly counting to twenty – backwards – hoping to calm before he would break the promise that he made less than a minute ago. "You told me about the health problems of your husband, I saw pictures of him in the parlor. You said yourself that he couldn't even get out of his chair. For years that man was too fat to walk, let alone conceive a child."

"How dare you," she hissed, "to speak of my husband that way. But how would _you _know that he isn't the father? I'm not as ladylike and perfect as Lu… a certain someone was, but I'm not a whore or a slut. I only had my Albert and although he wasn't as smart and good looking as you used to be, he cared for me like a real man should. And perhaps you and that yellow haired person didn't know it, but there are other ways to… conceive a child than a woman on her back and a man on top of her."

Sweeney was very aware of the fact that the bold baker was offending 'a certain person', but it was worse that she was implicitly suggesting that he had been a bad and boring lover for the same yellow haired woman.

"Why weren't you pregnant before then, if you and Albert knew so _well _how to conceive a child?" he asked slowly, his voice dangerously low, challenging her.

"Who said I wasn't?" she replied, eyes narrowing just as much as his. "How dare you even talk about Albert and I as if it concerns you?"

"Because I want to know why you are pregnant now instead of ten years ago."

In a strange way, he found himself enjoying the verbal fight with Mrs. Lovett, mostly because he was sure that he was going to win and that _she _would be the one who would end up apologizing.

"Did I ever said that this is the first time I'm pregnant?" she hissed, slowly losing control because of the barber's insufferable behavior. "If you must know, this is the _third _time."

"But… then were are the others?" Sweeney asked, mesmerized.

"They died," Mrs. Lovett said, her face betraying no emotion. "One after the sixth month of the pregnancy, the other one during childbirth."

The barber stared at her in shock. He had not expected to hear something like this, something so… tragic.

"I… I am sorry," he muttered, avoiding her gaze now. This time he meant what he said.

"No," she said softly. "No, you are not."

He considered the situation for a moment, remembering what horrible things he had said to her and that he had basically ordered her to prevent herself from continuing the pregnancy.

And then, guilt hit him, almost just as powerfully as the baker's words had impacted him when she had informed him of the fate of his family so shortly ago.

Unable to spend one more moment in the room of the woman who he had just treated so badly, he hurried out of the baker's bedroom, not daring to cast one more glance at her.


	5. Chapter 4

_Once again, I'm sorry it took me so long to update. It wasn't my fault though and I really intend to post the next chapter soon, especially since this one is more like a filler chapter that is needed to get the story started._

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Chapter 4

For many minutes, Nellie remained sitting on her bed in the same position, staring at the door Mr. Todd had disappeared through. She had trouble believing that she had just told the second most horrible lie, to _him _of all people. She had also told the worst lie to him, but that was a different story.

But yet, she didn't feel truly guilty. The first lie had only been to protect him against even more pain that knowing the truth about his wife would've caused, and the second was to save herself from his accusations by telling him that she and Albert had had two babies who had died before they were even born.

In a way, telling the barber that his wife was dead wasn't a real lie in the first place. Technically, Lucy Barker _was _dead the minute she had taken the arsenic. Perhaps her body still functioned, but her mind did not. And now that Mrs. Lovett thought of it, she hadn't seen the crazy beggar woman for quite some time. Perhaps Mr. Barker's wife had run out of luck after all.

This brought the baker's thoughts back to what she had told the barber this night. It wouldn't be quite hard for him to figure out that she had lied to him, but for the time being Mrs. Lovett justified her behavior by thinking that the lie she had told was the only way to prevent him from saying more terrible and very undeserved things about her and Albert.

Her husband had been good to her all these years and she didn't really know how she would've survived without him. He had given her so much and had asked so little in return. He had saved her from an unhappy marriage or a life on the streets by proposing to her. They had listed their conditions and her future husband had promised her that they would be only married for the outside world and that they would behave like friends instead of a married couple when they were alone. Knowing this was the best option she had, she had accepted.

Nellie had always thought that their marriage was, to him, just as much a way to survive as it had been to her. He had allowed, even encouraged her, to spend time with other men when found suitable ones as she became older, as long as she did this discreetly. The baker had never done so (Benjamin Barker was the only one who she would ever want) but she always presumed that Albert had sought the company of other women every once in a while. Until he, when his body began to fail him, told her that she was the only one for him and that he, for only one time, wanted to break their first and most important condition: no intimate contact.

After some reluctance she had agreed, as a way of thanking him for all that he had done for her during the years. A sore body and an awkward first time seemed to be a small price compared to how happy she had made her husband, but now that the result of her generosity was growing in her womb, she didn't think so lightly of it anymore.

It all wouldn't be _that _bad, if it weren't for Sweeney Todd, who was behaving even worse than she had feared. She didn't even dare to think of the consequences her lie would have if he'd find out one day that she had bluntly lied to him about her former pregnancies.

"We can only hope he won't find out, little one," she murmured, petting her belly again, a gesture she found herself making more and more often. "Let's just hope that your father is watching over us and will prevent that from happening."

The idea of her late husband protecting her gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Albert had protected her since the day they had met, why wouldn't he continue doing so now that he was dead? He had never been one to be stopped after all. The only time that he had not managed to prevent something bad from happening, was when Turpin's men had come for Johanna, only one day after Lucy had seemingly died and the Lovett's had began taking care of the lovely and innocent girl. Albert had fought like a tiger to prevent the men from taking Johanna, which resulted in his arrest. Luckily he had been released from prison a few days later and although Mrs. Lovett had been very relieved, it was too late for Johanna, who was taken already. Many years later they had found out that she was the Judge's ward, but by then Mr. Lovett had already been too weak to do anything.

"Your father was a good man," she said gently to the child. "Unfortunately we can't say the same of Sweeney Todd. He used to be a very, very kind man. I always thought that _if _I were going to be a mother, the child would be his. But now I'm quite glad that you are Albert's. I'm not sure I'd survive two Todds in my house."

A little voice, nagging in the back of her head, told her that she wouldn't mind two Todds at all, as long as they treated her like a _person_ instead of a soulless thing, but still… No matter what he did, he could look so sad, so _broken _when he thought that she wasn't looking and she still couldn't help but love him like she had done the greater part of her life.

"But no matter whose child you are," she said, continuing to talk to the baby inside of her, "I will love you and I will protect you. I'm only sorry that it took me so long to find out that you were there. But I've been very busy working in my pie shop and helping Mr. Todd. Only when I looked at the calendar to see how many weeks it was ago exactly that your father died, I realized that…"

Finding it strangely calming to talk to the child, Nellie continued chattering, loving the idea that her baby was perhaps actually _listening _to her. She felt more and more at ease with the idea of having a baby as she realized that this child was her own, her own flesh and blood, and that she was the one who was going to raise it. And basically she could start even now by telling the child all about her and Albert's life.

As the hours passed quickly, Nellie began to realize that after all what he had done to her, her pregnancy was perhaps going to be Albert's most wonderful gift to her.


	6. Chapter 5

_Argh, I am_ so_ sorry it took me so long to post this chapter! Real life has been very busy lately, and as if working twenty hours a week and preparing for a horrible exam wasn't enough yet, my laptop decided that it needed to be fixed elsewhere _again _and my beta reader disappeared for a long time. _

_But yesterday my summer vacation began at last, so at least I don't have to study anymore, and I hope to have my laptop back within two weeks. This will probably be the last chapter that is proof read; after this one, I'll be beta reading my own stories again. There'll doubtlessly be more grammar errors in my writing, but at least I'll be able to update much more often._

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Chapter 5

Once again Sweeney Todd found himself sitting motionlessly in the barber chair, his mind processing what had happened only minutes ago. He still wasn't sure he believed that the baby Mrs. Lovett was pregnant with was actually her late husband's, but he did feel that she hadn't lied about her other children.

No matter how tragic this was, a lot of babies died before they were even born and this did explain why Mrs. Lovett didn't have any children after having been married for more than fifteen years. She seemed to be very fond of children after all, judging by the way she looked after Toby as an actual mother.

Sweeney shook his head, not believing that he was actually thinking about _that _kind of thing. At the same time, he wished now that he had never asked the baker how her husband and she had conceived the child in the first place. According the pictures he had seen in her parlor the day that he had returned to London, the man was fat enough to crush the tiny baker the minute he would even attempted to move on top of her. Mr. Todd was strangely curious how exactly the baker's late husband had managed to get her pregnant, if he had done so in the first place.

Sweeney _really _didn't want to think about it, but an obscure part of his brain _was _rather curious. In prison, he had heard other men saying things about women and what they had done to them that he did not fully understand. It seemed that the barber was still naive in that aspect of life.

Of course he had been curious to the workings of the bodies of himself and Lucy, but they were both innocent and very shy when they had married. How fondly he recalled those nights filled with so much tenderness and carefulness, which had let to so much enjoyment and pleasure… But within weeks, Lucy had been pregnant and had felt so unwell for many months that he had been afraid to hurt her by even holding her hand. And when Johanna had been born at last, the little girl had needed all their attention, mostly at night. He had always thought that he and Lucy would have all the time to continue exploring each other's bodies once Johanna was old enough to have a room of her own, but this had never been more than a dream. Those incredible nights with his wife were over now, gone forever, and he would never experience something like that again now that his Lucy was taken from him.

Sweeney sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to make himself believe that not everything was lost. His daughter was still alive and hopefully she would be freed from the Judge soon. But even if she was, she would probably run away with Anthony Hope and he would never see her again. She would even never know who her actual father was. All what he would have, was the hope that she'd be happy somewhere far away. It was only a bit better than totally losing her.

In that way, he was just like Mrs. Lovett, who had lost so much as well. How ironic it was that the foolish woman and he had something in common after all. In the same way, it was simply cruel that she was the only one that was left from his old life.

"Cruel indeed," he muttered quietly. It was not that he hated Mrs. Lovett, even now. In fact, he had liked her in the old days. She was a gentle and kind woman with a good and generous heart. But he didn't understand her, he never had. Whenever he had talked to her, her behavior had suddenly changed in a way that he could not put his finger on, and even now he found that this still happened whenever he even looked at her.

Sometimes he was curious about this strange behavior, and he would wonder what secrets were hidden behind those warm brown eyes. But really, he had much more important things to worry about.

However, there were moments like the one he currently experienced, in which he thought about his landlady. He had spent so many hours brooding about the Judge and his destroyed family; now that Mrs. Lovett's pregnancy was effecting his plans, his thoughts tended to drift to the baker herself more and more often, especially since it seemed more and more that she and he had something in common after all.

He remembered how she had immediately allowed him to live in his old room again, how she didn't only assist him by baking his late customers into pies but had come up with the plan to begin with. And then there was the course of her life, perhaps not as tragic as his own, but there wasn't much of a difference. And what did he do? He treated her almost the same way as the guards on Devil's Island had treated him: with commands, hateful glances, indifference, offenses or beatings. And he had threatened to kill her child if she wouldn't do so herself, just because he feared that her pregnancy would make it impossible for her to do all the work she did now. Only when he had found out that she had lost two children herself, he sympathized somewhat with her at last. What kind of monster had he become if he was almost incapable of recognizing a person who had suffered almost just as much as he had?

Sweeney stared off into space, still lost in thoughts concerning Mrs. Lovett. As time passed slowly, an unexplainable urge to pay her a visit welled inside of him. After a moment, he got out of his barber chair and slowly made his way downstairs, to the baker's home.

When he stepped into Mrs. Lovett's bedroom a minute later, she was sleep again. This time he had not the intention to wake her and when he sat down on the edge of her bed once more, he didn't try to get her attention. Instead, he simply watched her.

She seemed so peaceful, almost innocent, and for the first time Sweeney felt sorry for accusing her of adultery. This woman wouldn't betray anyone, especially not her husband of who she always spoke with so much tenderness.

It was not in her nature to betray her husband. In fact, even now that her husband had been dead for two months and it was considered acceptable to remarry, he had not seen her being romantically involved with any men. He hadn't even witnessed her talking to one with more than polite interest.

She was a woman who was loyal to the extreme after all, and for a few seconds he wondered how his life would be now if Lucy had been like that too. Mrs. Lovett had told him how his late wife had suffered from the memories of what Judge Turpin had done to her and he understood very, very well how horrible it must've been for Lucy, but had there really been no other way? If his late wife had possessed his landlady's determination and loyalty, then she would've been waiting for him, wouldn't she? She should've been there, just like Nellie had been…

"Who are you?" he muttered, more to himself than to his landlady's sleeping form, "and why are you always there for me, no matter what I do to you?"

It was a good thing that she was asleep, for otherwise he would never had said those words of such a nature to her. But yet, even though he would never really ask her, he did wonder about her indescribable generosity.

"And you, little thing," he whispered, looking at the woman's belly, still flat beneath the fabric of her clothes for the time being. "You are lucky to have a mother such as her. I'm sure that you'll be a good person, even if you inherit only a few of her qualities."

He didn't know where that came from, but the words that had flowed out of his mouth on their own accord were some of the truest he had said the past few weeks.

When he looked at Nellie, he was once again amazed by the fact how vulnerable she looked. It dawned on him how hard it was going to be for her, raising a child all by herself, even if she didn't have to work in and around the pie shop sixteen endless hours a day like she was doing now.

One of her hands was resting on the pillows and the right one was on its now familiar place on her stomach. He took the left one and held it gently.

"But know one thing," he whispered suddenly. "From now on, you won't be alone anymore."

He wasn't referring to the fact that she was going to be a mother, but to his own desire to prevent another family being destroyed right in front of his eyes.

Before returning to his room, he glanced once more at the sleeping woman.

"I hope the child will be like Albert too," he added, his voice less serious. "I wouldn't know how to survive the energy of _two_ persons like you."

As he closed the door quietly, his lips lifted upwards a bit. A young version of Mrs. Lovett? Except for the cheerful chaos that this would probably cause, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad at all.


	7. Chapter 6

_Wow, I actually updated within three days! ;)_

_To make sure that it's clear: this chapter begins with the last part of the previous chapter, but now from Mrs. Lovett's pov. I considered not posting this chapter since hardly anything happens, but it felt wrong to delete it. Either way, the next chapter, which takes place some time later, will probably be posted soon anyway._

* * *

Chapter 6

Nellie Lovett felt worse and worse about her own behavior. Not long ago, she had told another horrible lie to Mr. Todd and before she had even figured out a way to make that right, he entered her bedroom, even though it was in the middle of the night. Her intuitive reaction was to pretend that she was actually sleeping and act as he doubtlessly expected her to, by not reacting at all. She thought, in the one moment that she had to decide what to do, that this would be the best way to figure out the intentions of the barber.

But as he talked to her so gently, thinking that she couldn't hear him, it was harder and harder not to react to his words. It was clear to her that it would've been better to make it obvious to Mr. Todd that she was awake when he had entered her room, but it was too late for that. The worst thing to do now, was revealing that she hadn't been sleeping at all and that she had heard all that he had said; things he would _never_ say to her when he'd know that she was actually listening.

She wondered why he talked to her so gently in the first place, but she'd probably never know. Mr. Todd wasn't the man to explain his own actions to anyone, after all. She often wondered if he even knew himself why he did the things he did.

It was getting almost impossible to pretend not to be aware of anything he did, but it would be more stupid to expose herself after every word he said. But yet, she wanted to sit up, talk to him, be part of his quiet conversation to her and the baby, and most of all, thank him for his kindness.

But of course, he would probably kill her if he found out she actually heard what he said. It was still very clear to her that he didn't like her, let alone in _that _way she longed for him so desperately. He probably just pitied her and in that sometimes terribly slow brain of his, which was coloring more and more with lies, he had probably concluded that she had suffered quite a lot as well and deserved some kindness from him because of that.

It was not much, but she was aware that it was something at least. Life would be so much better if Sweeney would treat her like a human being instead of some sort of slave or whatever it was he seemed to consider her to be. However, this had always been nothing but a dream, but lately, during moments like the one she passively experienced now, the barber showed a side of himself of which she didn't know that it still existed. Mr. Todd himself probably wasn't even aware of the things that his words implied; they suggested that he actually cared for her and, almost more important, for the baby, and that he had some respect for her after all.

Her heart literally skipped a beat when he reached for her hand and took it in his own. She wanted to scream in excitement because of what he did, she wanted to embrace him, but of course she might as well ask him to cut her throat if she couldn't control herself.

He disappeared just as suddenly as he had entered her room, but even when he was gone, Mrs. Lovett couldn't relax, let alone express some of the joy that Sweeney had caused. Judging from the pacing upstairs, he was still awake and the last thing she wanted to happen, was making any noise so he would find out that she hadn't been asleep and had fooled him once more.

She was very sure that she wouldn't forget that gentle touch, so intimate for his standards, for a very long time and she hoped that there would be more moments like this in the future. Seconds of happiness like the one she had just experienced, were the reason she had been struggling to keep her shop and his old home after all.

She was hardly able to calm down and the fact that she couldn't make any real sound, didn't it make it easier for her to fall asleep like she should. Soon, there would be more pies to bake and more corpses to chop up, after all. But sleep was the last thing on her mind as she tossed and turned in the bed, wishing that she could express her joy, or at least, that there was someone with whom she could share it.

Only after a few minutes she realized that there _was _someone to share this moment with; after all, hadn't she chattered to her baby before? Whether it could hear her or not, it would be a relief to talk, to whisper…

The smile on her face widened and she placed a hand on her stomach again. She was sure that she could tell her baby about what just had happened, even without talking aloud and thus alerting the barber.

"He talked to you," she said quietly, somehow sensing that her child was actually listening to her. "He says he'll protect you – us – for the dangers of the world. He is absolutely lovely when he behaves like that. I wish he was like that more often … And his hands, they are soft and cool, even now. If only he would hold my hand not only when he thinks I'm asleep…"

She stared at the ceiling and listened to Sweeney's pacing feet. But the rhythm of his shoes on the floor soon faded to the background as well as she began to understand more and more that even if the barber would keep ignoring her most of the time, she still didn't have to be lonely. Even now that he was gone, there was still warmth around her and the feeling of emptiness that she experienced whenever the barber wasn't close to her, wasn't as strong as it used to be. The thought that if everything went well she never had to be lonely again, made her smile.

However, when she reminded herself how angry Mr. Todd had been when she had told him of her pregnancy, the smile faded. Especially when she thought of Lucy, the only pregnant woman who she had actually been able to study from a little distance, fear welled within her. Until now the baker had felt very well, but Mrs. Barker had thrown up daily during the first few months; during the second half of her pregnancy, she had suffered from all kind of other physical problems. Benjamin had comforted his wife every minute of the seemingly endless nine month process, but Nellie knew very well that Sweeney wouldn't be patient with her. The moment she would be unable to work, she would have a major problem.

"We're going to have to be strong, little one," she whispered again. "And you have to be a good child a while longer and make sure that I can continue to do whatever Mr. Todd asks of me. The poor man would be nowhere without us, and unfortunately he knows that very well."

Talking to the baby once again helped her to calm down. No matter what was going to happen, the thought of having a child of her own was enough to take away most of her fear concerning Mr. Todd. There was always hope of course; it was possible that he would warm up to her and the idea of a child being born in the house were he lived. However, if there was someone who had destroyed her hope again and again, it was the barber himself unfortunately.

But before she could worry more about what was possibly going to happen with herself and the child in the near future, her exhausted body surrendered to sleep at last.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Several weeks passed and life continued like it always did. For Mrs. Lovett however things were much more pleasant than they had been before. In spite of her pregnancy she still felt like she usually did and the best thing was that Mr. Todd's behavior towards her had changed quite a lot.

They found out that it was much easier, even pleasant, if she wouldn't chatter endlessly. In return for that, he wouldn't ignore her and actually listen to her if she had something to say. Even though they only said necessary things to each other, contact between them had never been better.

This far Mrs. Lovett felt that her pregnancy was one of the best thing that ever had happened to her. But as she stared at her reflection in the mirror one morning , she realized it wouldn't remain this easy. Her stomach wasn't flat anymore and although her corset had been hiding her expanding belly this far, she found out new that there were limits to what the tight fabric could do. Sooner or later people would find out anyway, but for now she wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret as long as possible.

"Mr. T!" she said loudly when she saw him walking in the pie shop. "Could you give me some help?"

A few moments later he stood behind her, visible to her in the mirror in her bedroom.

"It's the corset," she explained, "I can't get it tight enough. Can you assist me, please?"

"I don't think it's a wise thing to trap the child behind a corset," he said slowly. "People are going to find out anyway."

"I know," she sighed, "but I just want to avoid gossip for the time being."

"Whether they found out today or next week, they _are _going to talk," he said, gentler than he had intended.

"I _know_," she said again, "but those silly things people say about you and me… I don't want it to get any worse."

"And since when do you care about what's being said?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I try not to listen to them, but it does hurt if people are calling you a whore behind your back. And when they found out I'm with a child, it'll only get worse."

"A whore?" he repeated, sounding as if he was shocked by this.

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm a widow, you don't have a wife – or at least, not as far as they know – we live here all by ourselves and we aren't married. For a man that doesn't seem to be a problem, but for women… they're such hypocrites. A lot of my male customers have actual affairs, but they offend _me_ for something very similar that isn't even _true_."

Mr. Todd stared at the baker, surprised by her outburst.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few seconds of silence, "I don't know why I said that to you. It's not of your concern."

"It's alright," he said, his voice still unusually soft. "I'm sorry to hear such things are said about you."

"They are said about you as well, Mr. T," she replied sadly. "I presume you don't like it when people suggest we are… you know."

"I cut their throats before they can say anything," he said casually. "If you want to get rid of those men, just tell them that they can get a free 'shave'."

He moved his arm, almost as if he wanted to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but just before their bodies touched, he pulled his hand back. Mrs. Lovett however wasn't aware of it. Having those rude men killed wouldn't solve her problem. In spite of Mr. Todd's reaction, she still hated it how most of her customers spoke of her. Not because she actually minded that they thought she had an affair with the barber, but the highly offensive ways they made clear to her that they knew – or rather, thought to know. No, it was the fact that her child was going to have to grow up with things like this. She was a strong woman, she could handle it. Even if those nasty remarks hurt her deeply, she would never show it. But her child, which would be so vulnerable… Mrs. Lovett dreaded to even think of it.

"What's wrong?" Sweeney asked, sensing her discomfort.

"I'm scared," she said quietly, not daring to meet his gaze in the mirror. "If everything goes well, I'll have a child within a few months. But I have no idea how to protect it or to look after it. There has never been anyone who bothered to teach me."

"We'll think of something," he said, catching her once again off guard with his kind and reassuring words. "It seems that we just have to tighten that corset for now. But only for a while longer; this can't be good for the child."

He reached for the laces and guided by her instructions, he began tying the corset. Every time he pulled, he did so less powerfully than the woman wanted him to, as if he was trying not to hurt her and the child. This fascinated her and the hope that Sweeney Todd wasn't as dead inside as he seemed to be, which she had given up a long time ago, welled within her again.

It really seemed like he was an actual friend now and this was more than she had ever expected, but she still felt that she couldn't trust him. Sweeney had proven to be very unreliable and now that there was a child on its way, she couldn't only think of herself anymore. _She_ could endure the barber's aggression and his unexplainable mood swings, but the baby… she had to stop trusting that man blindly. In the past, he had betrayed her faith in him again and again; if she wanted her child to be safe, she had to make sure that this wouldn't happen again. She realized that for once in her life, she had to be stronger than her feelings for the demon barber. She simply couldn't let her baby suffer because of her own weakness concerning Mr. Todd.

It should be so easy to distance herself from him, knowing what he had done and what he could do. The man was a danger to everyone, especially to an innocent and defenseless child. But the trouble was, that Nellie _couldn't_ stay away from him, even though she knew things about him no one else did. How ironic, that the only person who was aware of all his horrible secrets, was the one who couldn't help but care for him, _love_ him, even though she knew who he really was and of which horrible things he was capable.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Mr. Todd wondered vaguely if he was going insane at last. Had he really just said to Mrs. Lovett that he would help her fight the gossip mill that her pregnancy would cause? Had he actually allowed himself to get involved in her problems, in her own mistakes? It seemed an awful lot like it.

When the day passed gradually, the barber wondered why he cared in the first place. After a few hours of absent-minded throat slitting he couldn't think of an answer, but it dawned on him that it had nothing to do with Mrs. Lovett herself, but with the creature growing within her. Although the baker and he had come to an understanding and it was much less annoying to deal with her now that she didn't chatter to him for minute after endless minute, she was still… well, _Mrs. Lovett_.

To him, she was would always be a part of life that was just there and would always be there. Very much unlike his Lucy and Johanna, unfortunately. He failed to see that perhaps the baker's presence made her in fact a much more familiar and thus more reliable aspect of his life than his actual family would ever be now.

At the end of his working day, he had come to the conclusion that family was exactly the reason that he seemed to care for Mrs. Lovett's child. No matter how sad it was and no matter how indifferent he was towards her, the baker was the closest thing to a loving wife he would have for the rest of his life. The child that would hopefully be born within a few months, would be the only infant he would see grow up. The baker had been through so much misery already, he didn't want her to suffer even more. A breakdown would cause more harm to his plans than her actual pregnancy did anyway. And besides, a child would hopefully distract her to the extent that she would be fussing over her baby instead of over him. He had always felt that she should have a person who actually _needed _her concern.

During the day he left his barber shop a few times to check on the baker; just to be sure that she didn't skip one minute of her working day. She was working however just as hard as she always did.

To a mere bystander it wouldn't be noticeable, but whether he wanted to or not, Sweeney was becoming much more than just an onlooker. He could tell within seconds that she didn't move as quickly and easily as she used to do. With Toby's help she still managed to serve to the customers efficiently and in time, but he feared that this wouldn't be like that for much longer.

The men and women who she was serving to didn't seem to be aware of the situation she was in, but he feared that this would be over soon. Before that would happen, precautions had to be taken.

No one was ever going to believe that Albert Lovett was the father of Nellie's child. From what Sweeney had heard during the months, he had learned that Albert had been a man people liked, but not one they took seriously. Apparently, it was commonly known that his _wife_ had ruled their affairs for the last years of his young life – and he had let her.

A lot of people would immediately think that her pregnancy was the result of a relationship with another man – and this was probably one of the less nasty 'truths' people would come up with.

In his mind, Sweeney could all see it. Mrs. Lovett's reputation, or what was left of it, ruined, and the huge loss of customers that would follow. And he would be included in the wild gossip too; hadn't Nellie told him herself that people said that the two of them were having an affair, only months after the death of her own husband? Her tolerable reputation would be gone, whispered rumors repeated louder and louder each time, spreading like wildfire. And along with hers, his good name would be destroyed as all.

"Hypocrites indeed," Sweeney muttered, remembering how Nellie had called the gossiping customers.

He wasn't sure himself that Nellie's child was as legitimate as she had attempted to make him believe. But no matter who was the father of the child, they had to find a way to make it seem that the baker herself was not to blame. He just _couldn't _have his reputation, his tonsorial parlor and his _life_ being ruined (even further) by a bastard child of Mrs. Lovett.

He had to think of something, he had to _act_, even if this meant that he had to involve himself in the baker's life even more. His plans, the revenge he had been living for all this years, was at stake.

But as he watched the hard working woman, another feeling was evoked by her. When he thought of the creature inside of her, so fragile and innocent, a strange urge to protect the child until it would be strong enough to do so itself, settled inside his shattered heart.

He didn't know whether it was because he still felt guilty for having treated the baby and the mother the way he had done or that perhaps some kind of affection was finding its way back into his numb system, but he actually didn't want either of those two to occur.

What he felt however was of no importance to him. He had a business to save, two in fact, and all his plans to kill the men who had destroyed his family depended on that.

When the sun went down and darkness filled his barber shop, a plan began to develop in his mind.

A while later, Mrs. Lovett brought him his dinner like she always did, but this time he actually looked up when she entered his barber shop.

"I have an idea," he said to her, "but we have to act soon."

The baker was stupefied for a moment because the barber began talking to her, but then she nodded.

"Shall we discuss it tonight?" she asked.

"It's necessary, I'm afraid," he replied. "I'll come downstairs at nine."

He could tell that she had some trouble hiding her annoyance. He did understand that it was perhaps quite a bit bold to invite himself into _her_ home and decide about the time as well, but technically it was _her _problem that he was going to find a solution for, wasn't it?

"Alright," she said. "Meet me in my bedroom."

Before had the chance to object to this bizarre and _inappropriate_ request, she disappeared from his room, leaving him to his own thoughts again.

If he had ever spoken of desperate measures… they were nothing compared to the idea that was developing quickly in his head. But he had no choice. Something _had _to be done before it was too late.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

When all the customers had left and the interior of the pie shop was cleaned with care, Mrs. Lovett left Toby in the parlor and retreated to her bedroom. She hadn't told the boy yet about the 'sibling' he was hopefully going to have soon. She felt rather guilty about this, but she still didn't know the right way to tell him. The baker did know that she couldn't wait too long; he was going to know about it sooner or later and she wanted to tell him the news herself. It would be horrible if he would heard the news, or even rumors about it, from gossiping customers, who would doubtlessly try to make him believe that the child was not quite as legitimate as it was. She absolutely didn't want the boy to think that she was _that _kind of woman.

But Toby wasn't the one who was in her mind. She expected Mr. Todd to arrive any time now, and that was why she was in her bedroom already. If she was going to discuss her pregnancy, she rather wouldn't be in the same room as the still oblivious Toby was.

Although she feared that Sweeney's plan was something that she probably wasn't going to like, she was grateful that there was at least someone who knew of her secret, especially since he seemed to be willing to help him. His motives weren't as noble as she wanted them to be, but rather his dubious help than no help at all. And usually she was clearly the most practical of the two, but lately she found it difficult sometimes to think clearly, especially about things concerning her child. Had she been rational, then she would've found a solution for a lot more problems concerning her child than she currently had. Mostly, she strongly felt that should have thought of a way that made it absolutely clear that the baby was not the result of a night of passion including her and any man who was not as fat and immobile as her poor Albert had been for quite a long time.

She hoped that Mr. Todd could think of something good, although it also saddened her that she needed his help in this aspect of her life. But if things were going well, she was going to need his help with more than just that. No one had ever explained her how things like diapers and breastfeeding were supposed to work exactly. She had been the youngest child of her parents and thus she was the girl who was being taken care of by her mother and older sisters instead of learning to do so herself. After that, she had ended up marrying at the age of nineteen, and that marriage had remained childless on purpose. Not that anyone knew that Albert and she _chose _not to have any children; a good Christian woman was supposed to pop out babies as if it was the sole purpose of her life after all.

But the marriage of Albert and her hadn't been one in the traditional sense of the world. It had been a bond of friendship and protection – or so Nellie had thought. Only after many years she had found out that Benjamin Barker wasn't the only one who was completely blind when it came to the feelings of persons that were closest to him. Only in the last month of his life she had known how deeply Albert had been in love with her, all this time, but that he placed her happiness above his own and hadn't forced her to do anything that she didn't want.

In retrospect she was both grateful and ashamed. She was glad that she didn't have to share a bed with a man she didn't love or didn't even feel attracted to, but it saddened her that her husband had been just as unhappy as she was when it came to love. She and Benjamin could never be together, she knew that, but Albert and she… they _were _together already, and yet, she was almost as far away from him as Benjamin was from her. If only she would've known, they might have been able to make it work… But it had been too late already and what was left for them was one night, only one night, to make up for all the time that they had not been together.

But no one had known of all that, no one had ever known, even not the barber and his wife who rented the room above their home in the first years. Even when time passed and the Barkers were seemingly gone, no one had ever suspected that it was not nature that prevented the young baker from becoming a mother.

People however did presume, always just a bit too loudly, that the Lovetts were having very, very bad luck when it came to children. Surely there was something wrong with his body – or hers, you could never know. Nellie had always pretended not to hear it and although the lack of subtlety of her acquaintances and neighbors hurt her, there were always her husband's soothing words and calming presence to comfort her. During the years, she had been perfectly happy with their unusual arrangements; and more than once she had enjoyed the irony of the fact that it was marriage, which chained most women to often uncaring husbands, that saved her from a miserable life as an inferior human being.

But now that she was pregnant after all, no one would ever believe that Albert was the father of her child – not only because of his physical appearance, but because most people had believed that the unhealthy looking man was the reason she hadn't been pregnant before in the first place.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Sweeney entered her bedroom without knocking. He closed the door quietly behind him, making as little sound as possible, as if he didn't want to be noticed in this certain part of her house – and he doubtlessly didn't indeed.

Blinking, she forced herself to think about the current problems. She had been so focused on the past that she had hardly been aware of the passing of time in the present.

"Couldn't you think of a room more appropriate?" he asked, while looking at the bed that she was sitting on disapprovingly.

" I couldn't really send Toby to the bake house to give us some privacy, could I?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed and patient at the same time. "_You _were the one who wanted to come down."

The barber didn't reply. The fact that he didn't verbally attack her (yet), indicated that he wasn't in a very bad mood. Perhaps she was going to be able to have a say in the thing after all. She didn't feel like being part of a plan that she didn't like at all. Deep trouble or not, she still had some dignity.

"Well," she said, gentler this time, intending to start the conversation politely at least. "Do you have a good idea that allows me to have my child without me – us – being banned from society?"

"Yes," Sweeney said, his blank expression gone for just a second, but it happened so quickly that she couldn't understand the flash of actual emotion beneath it. "I certainly have."

"Let's hear it then," she replied, in spite of herself very curious what he was going to say.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

When Mr. Todd was done explaining his plan, Mrs. Lovett was completely dumbfounded.

"Don't stare at me like that, woman," he scowled. "Do you think that _I _like this? I'm doing this for _you, _remember?"

"Yes," she managed to say. "But you are actually _willing_ to do this? Isn't there some sort of secret reason that I should know of?"

Sweeney raised his arms in disbelief.

"I offer you a way out, and you react like this? A simple 'thank you' would suffice!"

He glared angrily at her, but Mrs. Lovett was not impressed.

"That's all very well, but only months ago you threatened to kill this child and now you say that you are willing to _marry_ me in order to protect it? I'm very sorry Mr. Todd, but I find that hard to believe."

She stared back at him, unafraid of his intense gaze, two determined pairs of dark eyes locking until, unlike usual, Sweeney Todd looked away.

"I'm not doing this for you, but for myself," he said, shrugging. "If people think the child is illegitimate, they want nothing to have to do with you and your shop anymore. We both know very well what will happen when people don't eat the pies anymore; and they might stay away from my shop as well. And what will we do then? What if the Judge hears of it? He'll probably have dozens of illegitimate children himself, but _he _can get away with it while being the first to condemn you and me. Is pretending to be married to me really worse than risking to lose everything you have now, even your child and your freedom if you are send to Bedlam?"

Sweeney stared intently at the baker, but this time she didn't have the strength to meet his gaze.

Mr. Todd wondered why things never could be easy; why people just couldn't leave each other alone. First it was his Lucy, claimed by another man, while he was far away and couldn't help her, as he was banished on false charges. And now it was Mrs. Lovett, whose reputation would be ruined and even her freedom taken just because there couldn't be proved that the child she was going to have was actually her late husband's. The strange thing was, that even though he had been completely helpless all those years ago, he _was_ capable of this woman. But what a pity it was that it was not his own wife that he could help, just that it was cruel that only Mrs. Lovett had been there when he had returned to London at last, and not his own, sweet wife. The wrong woman had been waiting for him, and it was the wrong woman he was having to help now.

"At least think about it," he said. "Do you think that _I _want this? No. But if we can save our reputations and my plans by pretending, then why not?"

His voice was unusually gentle when he said this, but she was somehow relieved when he stood up to leave her bedroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts and a small box that he had placed on the bed beside her earlier.

As he closed the door behind him, Mrs. Lovett carefully lay down on the bed, both her hands massaging her belly lightly while she closed her eyes. Of course, she had been absolutely thrilled when Sweeney Todd had asked her to marry him. Her dream had come true - until she understood his motives were, as always, driven by revenge and didn't have anything to do with her as a person – as a _woman_. If he hadn't been dependent on her, he never would have offered her his help in the first place, let alone in such a drastic way.

Their 'marriage' would be based on pretend and deceit, just like hers and Albert's had been. But in the marriage with her first husband had been honesty and companionship. She had not loved him as a husband but she had loved him as a friend, and that was something at least. She wasn't so naive to think that that those feelings would ever be there in a fake marriage to Sweeney Todd. She would have him, in spite of her distrust for him and the fear of the darkness inside of him, but he would never even see her as a friend, only as an unreliable woman who had forced him into a marriage.

"But really," she said softly to the child inside of her, "what is there to choose? I can't hide you much longer and I wouldn't be the first woman in my situation to end up in Bedlam. And here I am, thinking of _love _as a condition to marry Mr. Todd – as if I have a bloody other option."

She stared at the ceiling, wondering how what it would be like to be bounded to the man upstairs in a fake marriage, but she couldn't think of a happy scenario.

"I wish I could let you live in a different world," Nellie continued, realizing how useless the monologue was but deciding not to care. "But this is all I can offer you. But always remember, little one, you'll never be alone as long as I am alive."

In spite of herself, the baker reached for the little box that Mr. Todd had left on her bed and opened it carefully, not knowing if she should do so but doing it anyway.

Inside were two golden rings, simple but elegant, and beautifully crafted. Nellie was speechless for a few long moments and could do nothing but stare in awe at the weddings rings that he had bought already. Was he so convinced that she was going to accept his idea that he was sure that this huge investment was not in vain? Or did he hope that those rings would help to persuade her to agree with his plan?

Mrs. Lovett didn't know the answers to these questions, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Sweeney Todd had asked her to marry him and how could she ever say no, even if it weren't for the situation?


	12. Chapter 11

_Here it is, another chapter! You'll have to wait a bit longer for the next update than usual, for I'm going to Spain tomorrow! But I'm supposed to come back Monday night, so I won't be gone for an awful long time XD_

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Chapter 11

After having considered all the good and less good aspects of the plan one last time, Mrs. Lovett picked up the box that contained the wedding rings and went to the barber stop. As she walked past the sleeping Toby, Nellie wondered how she was ever going to explain all this to him, but right now it was least of her sorrows.

Part of her still hoped that Mr. Todd secretly _wanted_ to marry her and didn't do all this to protect his own plans, but when she saw the sour look on his face upon entering his room, she knew that it was no use fooling herself. He really did not care for her and probably hated her for causing the situation.

"Mr. T," she greeted him, hoping to sound more reassured than she actually felt. "I have considered your proposal and I think that given the circumstances, a marriage is the best way for both of us to handle this situation."

The barber slowly nodded at her words.

"I think it's time to set some rules then," he said.

The baker sighed inwardly because Mr. Todd, even now, managed to act like his usual, cold self.

"I will only tolerate this marriage if contact between the two of us is kept to a minimum. We will continue to live the way we do now, but if someone asks, I have moved to your parlor and… bedroom to spend the time that I do not work. In order to make the timing of the child's birth more believable, we married three months ago. We haven't told anyone because… well, we have to think of something. And we won't tell anyone unless someone asks, to avoid unnecessary attention. Just in case, we keep the date of the 'wedding' vague on purpose and that way, there'll hopefully never be any doubt that the child is not… ours."

Mrs. Lovett stared at the barber, shocked for several reasons. Never before Sweeney had said so much without losing interest in the conversation or his anger being provoked. But it angered her most that this wasn't an actual conversation; he was dictating the terms of their fake marriage and didn't even bother to ask _her_ opinion.

Of course she hadn't expected a big, wonderful wedding, not from _him_ at least, but now it seemed that he had already decided that they weren't going to have a wedding _at all. _Just the two rings and a vague lie. She shouldn't be surprised, seeing the way he still considered himself to be married to his Lucy, but really... this was not a way to deal with a woman who had dreamed for so long of a beautiful marriage with the man who had just 'proposed' to her. She didn't have the nerve to tell him.

And no matter how much she had longed to be married to the barber, she knew very well that what she was about to agree with wouldn't be anything like she had ever imagined. He wasn't going to show any sign of affection towards her as long as there wasn't any other way to make their charade persuasive enough. He would never comfort her if she needed some kind words and he would never hold her when she needed warmth, let alone share a bed with her.

"I am afraid we _are _going to have to wear the rings," he added, just as monotonously as he had been speaking before, as if he was reading aloud a list of customers that he had killed instead of discussing some sort of wedding that would involve his partner in crime and himself.

He took the box from her hand and opened it, revealing the two rings. They looked rather expensive but plain at the same time, as if the creator had known that his products weren't meant to be worn by a happily married couple, but by people who had money none the less. To her surprise, the rings were actually matching. For a moment she had even feared that Sweeney had simply taken a few wedding rings from some randomly killed customers, not caring whether they matched and were actually made for a man instead for her; at least the ring _looked_ as if she could wear it without having to be ashamed of its design.

The barber took the ring that was a bit larger than the other one out of the velvet box and shoved it unceremoniously around his finger, regret written clearly on his face. Mrs. Lovett realized how hard it must be for him to have a wedding ring that did not symbolize his love for Lucy around his finger . It made the moment more awkward than it already was and inwardly, the baker sighed because she had always imagined this moment so differently. Knowing the man whose ring she was going to wear she hadn't expect something terribly romantic or beautiful, but this…

"You should wear the other one," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "What's the point of all this if you don't wear that ring?"

Mrs. Lovett blushed lightly and quickly took the second ring out of the box that he was still holding, and moved it around her finger. To her surprise, the ring fitted her quite well. She didn't dare to wonder whether this was coincidence or that perhaps Sweeney had given the choice of the rings some thought after all.

"If I think of more things that need to be discussed, I'll let you know. And it's probably better if you hide the child for a little longer, so people don't find out about our 'marriage' and your pregnancy at the same time."

The baker nodded; in spite of his cold and quite heartless analysis of the situation, he actually had a good point.

"Mr. Todd," she said, really speaking to him for the first time that evening. "Now that we are 'married', I think you should call me Nellie instead of Mrs. Lovett, and that I can call you Sweeney instead of Mr. Todd."

"Of course, _Eleanor_," he drawled, causing the baker to roll her eyes in annoyance. She couldn't bother to hide her frustration any longer. Even now he had to use her formal first name instead of the pet name that people who were close to her used. "You can call me Sweeney, but _only_ when others can hear you."

She sighed and walked away from him, not sure she was able to tolerate the insufferable man for only one more minute, and wanting to prove to him that she really wasn't going to ask his permission for everything that she wanted to do.

"Mrs. Lov… Eleanor," he called after her, "there's one more thing."

"Well, let's hear it," she said unenthusiastically, having lost most of her energy while listening to him stating his conditions and the 'rules' for their pretended marriage.

"I want to be involved in the raising of the child."

Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but stare at the barber in wonder as it dawned on her what he was saying exactly. That certainly was a surprise.

Sweeney turned his back to her, indicating that the meeting was over, but Nellie was hardly aware of this. All she thought of was his wish to help raising the child. She had no idea why he wanted _that_ of all things, but perhaps their arrangement was going to be interesting after all.


	13. Chapter 12

_Here I am again! I didn't leave Barcelona as tan and quite as rested as I had hoped, but I had an amazing time =D I even got some small ideas for Sweenett fics when I was there, so that's even better. For now, here is the next chapter of this story =)_

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Chapter 12

When Nellie placed the wedding ring around her own finger, Sweeney couldn't help but notice that she wasn't wearing the ring that her late husband had given her. It surprised him, because to him, the baker didn't seem the type to forget an earlier marriage so quickly. It was her husband's child after all that she was carrying now. Or at least, that's what she wanted him to believe.

Sweeney didn't wear a wedding ring himself – or rather, not until minutes ago – but that was not something he had decided himself. The golden ring was, along with all his other possessions, taken from him by the guards when he was brought to prison and he had never seen those beloved items again.

He had hoped to find Lucy's ring back in the room that they had shared above the pie shop of the Lovetts, but it hadn't been there and he presumed that his late wife had sold the precious metal to buy food for Johanna and herself – and to pay for the arsenic.

Refusing to think of _that_ and not to fall back into his own depressing thoughts and all those questions mostly starting with the words 'what if', he mentally came back to the present. Nellie Lovett was wearing a ring again, _his _ring, and although the marriage was only one of pretending, the ring was still a bit too real for his liking. But he couldn't do anything about it and perhaps this would ensure him a part in the raising of Mrs. Lovett's child.

The baker had been mesmerized when he had asked for this and he couldn't blame her. Even he didn't understand this urge himself, although he did resume that it had something to do with this desire to be the father of a child now that his own was taken and he never had had the chance to see a young human being develop itself to the age of even one year. Part of him, probably the heart that was beating slowly in his chest, wanted to raise a child again until it was grown up, even if it wasn't his own.

Mr. Todd stared at the wedding ring, twisting it around his finger while his mind began to drift back, trying to recall what Lucy and he all had to take care of before, after and of course during Johanna's birth. Back then, he had hired the best midwife that he could afford to make sure that everything would go as well as was possible; the lives of his wife and child had been at stake after all and money was nothing compared to their well being. It was very common for women not to survive childbirth and he'd rather die himself than having to lose his dear wife just because he didn't want to pay the small fortune that the midwife charged. And once he had hold his little Johanna and his Lucy in his arms, every penny had been worth it.

And now, he found himself in a similar situation. He didn't love Mrs. Lovett, he didn't like her and could hardly tolerate her seemingly perpetual presence around him, but he could not afford to lose her, both because of her role as his partner in crime and the mother she was going to have to be for her child. Lucy had never had a paid job, she worked as a housewife and it didn't matter if the windows of their home weren't cleaned for a while when Lucy couldn't take care of that because of the burden of pregnancy and motherhood.

Mrs. Lovett was a very different person though; she had a successful business and was as stubborn as a mule; she'd rather work herself and the child growing inside of her to dead than having to take a break when she didn't feel like it. Knowing very well that her work was quite essential, he needed to think of something to take care of that as well. Mrs. Lovett had to bake those pies but she didn't have to serve them and clean the pie shop afterwards. Toby already helped her with that, but it wasn't enough and Sweeney sensed he had to find other apprentices. But the baker couldn't know, or at least not for the time being, because she probably wouldn't accept any help from him since she still didn't seem to trust him.

Sweeney decided that he would attempt to find the wonderful midwife that had ensured the well-being of his wife and child all those years ago. Not because he cared for Mrs. Lovett, but because he wouldn't know anyone who could replace her if she'd be incapable of baking the pies after she had given birth. Of course, he didn't know for sure whether this still would be necessary by this time: perhaps the Judge and the Beadle would be nothing more than two corpses long before Mrs. Lovett's child was about to be born, but he couldn't be so sure of that. For countless weeks the Judge and the Beadle hadn't come, so why would they do in the coming months? He needed more time, so the reputation of his barbering skills would spread by the few men that left his tonsorial parlor alive.

And at the same time, he had to make sure that there would be a few more teenagers in the pie shop who could help Mrs. Lovett with the part of the baking and serving process in which the bodies in the pies were beyond recognition. It was not that he wanted to _help _the baker (and he was very aware of the fact he was looking after her now as if he was indeed her bloody _husband_), but because he had to make sure she'd survive the situation she had gotten herself into. The only one about whose well being he was genuinely concerned about, was that of her unborn child. Even though it was going to be _Mrs. Lovett_'_s_, he knew very well that child was going to be the closest to a son or daughter he would ever had again. And no matter how much he was sure that his Lucy could _never_ be replaced, he somehow felt that the same wasn't going for Johanna. He had known her for so short after all, and she was still alive, still part of the world that he had grown to hate, she had an entire life in front of her – a life that he would never be a part of, even if the sailor would be able to free her from Turpin's claws.

At the thought of the Judge, Sweeney's mind found itself wandering again on the too familiar path of vengeance. But this time, he forced himself not to think of the man who had ruined his past: he had to look after the woman who was his unwanted future and he'd better began doing so soon, before it'd be too late. For Mrs. Lovett's child would have nothing and would perhaps suffer in a way similar to Johanna, or perhaps even worse, if he wouldn't prevent this from happening personally.


	14. Chapter 13

_Once again, I'm sorry it took me so long to update! Last week I was staying with my aunt and uncle, twice as long as I had planned/expected. Once I got back, there were some other things that needed to be taken care of first, like getting a new laptop - both the laptop store people and I agreed that it was ridiculous that my laptop still isn't working properly after it died half a year ago and has been 'repaired' in the factory no less than three times. Today I could chose a new one for free, and now I'm the proud owner of a Toshiba and I can only hope that this one will be better than the **** Packard Bell laptop I had before. _

_But well, here's the chapter! I'm introducing quite a few OC's here (and one more soon) but I will not pay much attention to them in this story; their presence mostly ensures that Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd can spend more time together than they normally could ;)_

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Chapter 13

Mrs. Lovett's pregnancy was progressing rapidly. Her belly didn't fit into normal dresses and anyone could see now that she was with a child, but this far everyone seemed to believe her or Mr. Todd when they claimed that the child was theirs. Most of them already presumed that there was something going on between the baker and the barber, and her pregnancy only seemed to confirm that suspicion. But as it was clear to the customers, both of Mr. Todd and herself, that the two of them had married, Nellie was saved from the scandal that she had feared.

But the most surprising of all was the barber's behavior. She didn't know what was 'wrong' with him, but during the last few weeks he had been quite kind to her. He hadn't snarled at her once, didn't ignore her anymore and he actually listened to her when she had something to say. Mrs. Lovett would almost think that he had developed a soft spot for the baby and perhaps even for her, but... well, she knew who he was and who his heart belonged to and this knowledge made it utterly impossible for her to believe that she and her baby were the reason that his behavior had changed. But she was grateful: not only because he knew much more about unborn children than she did, but mostly because he made her feel for once as if she was a bit more than an annoying but necessary accomplice.

The last few days however he had been quite absent-minded and she could only hope that he was not growing into his murderous self again. Yesterday he had even closed his barbershop for a few hours, in the middle of the day, thus saving the lives of countless unsuspecting customers. Perhaps Sweeney had realized that the Judge was never going to visit his tonsorial parlor and had he accepted at last that he wouldn't miss anything if he'd leave the barbershop for a while.

But still, he had left in the middle of the day and he hadn't said one word to her. Mrs. Lovett hadn't dare ask where he was going, afraid to anger him now that things between them were getting better and better lately.

However, Mr. Todd's strange behavior wasn't the thing she was worried about most. Every day, she was becoming more and more aware of the fact that she was going to be a mother. Hopefully Sweeney could help her with that or at least give her advice when she needed it most, for she had no idea how to deal with young children.

But something that he wouldn't be able to help her with at all was giving birth and this part of her pregnancy and motherhood was what she feared most. She didn't know much about it (and she realized again how dangerous it was that she had told Mr. Todd that she had given birth two times before) but she had heard often enough how extremely painful it was. And then there was the undeniable risk of complications that could hurt or even kill the baby and herself.

Mrs. Lovett knew that she needed to find a proper midwife, but as she had subtly interrogated her female customers, it seemed that there _were_ no good midwives – or at least, there was no one even one of her customers was totally happy with. As far as her child was concerned, 'the best' wasn't good enough for Nellie – she wanted someone who was _perfect. _

But a midwife wasn't the only kind of assistance that the baker needed. She was beginning to be incapable of working the entire day as the energy she usually had was slowly decreasing. This made sense of course; there were two persons now who were depending on her strength after all.

Toby was doing all he could, trying to do both his own tasks and the work she didn't have the ability to do anymore, but no matter how hard he tried, the young boy couldn't keep up with the speed that hungry and impatient customers ordered their meals.

Mrs. Lovett needed new apprentices to help her and Toby in the pie shop. But the more time she spent looking for them, the more it became clear that it was quite impossible to find suitable assistants for in her establishment. When she looked around in Fleet Street, she saw a lot of homeless and orphaned children who were in desperate need for a job, or just some tasks to earn a few pennies, and although the baker's kind heart hurt at the sight of all those children, they had all something about them that would prevent them from being an efficient and reliable. Dishonest, rude, disabled or just lazy...

Shaking her head, the pregnant baker made herself more comfortable on the couch she had just collapsed on. Impossible or not, she _had _to find persons to help her before it was too late to still do so.

As if he had heard her thought, Sweeney Todd entered the parlor, with an unfamiliar proud look on his face.

"Mrs. Lovett," he announced, speaking with... enthusiasm? His voice was soft though, as if no one except for her was supposed to hear what he was saying. "Remember Lucy's midwife, that very kind and most reliable woman?"

The baker nodded; the last few days she had thought quite often of the woman who had even been nice to _her_ when she had visited the house to help Lucy. If only she could find someone like that woman... That midwife was now probably too old to work as the woman hadn't been young anymore already during Lucy's pregnancy sixteen years ago.

"Well," Sweeney continued, "here she is."

Before it dawned fully on Mrs. Lovett what the barber just had said, Sweeney quickly gestured to her that she couldn't mention Lucy and Johanna, and especially not Benjamin Barker, since he wasn't supposed to be recognized as the previous inhabitant of the room above the pie shop.

Mr. Todd opened the door to the shop, revealing a gray-haired woman in her late fifties, who had an air of energy around her that even Mrs. Lovett immediately envied. Although the woman had aged, the baker recognized her immediately as Lucy's midwife.

"Hello dear," the midwife said, "it's so nice to meet you."

The baker didn't really mind that the older woman didn't seem to recognize her; the less she was reminded of the past and the people who she once had shared her house with, the better it probably was.

"I'm Catherine Lucas," she said, "but please, call me Cathy."

She offered the baker her hand and Nellie shook it, finding it a strange feeling to introduce herself to the midwife for the second time, even though so many time had passed since they had met each other all those years ago.

"Eleanor L... Todd," the baker replied. "Nellie."

And how odd it was to use Sweeney's new last name as her own; she never had to do that in public before. It made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, but the barber cast a glance on her, indicating that she had done the right thing. Mrs. Lucas luckily was eying the baker's body to gauge the phase of her pregnancy and wasn't aware of the look that the other two people in the room shared.

Perhaps it was the different last name, but Mrs. Lucas still didn't show any sign of recognition.

"Before we begin, I want to ask you something," the midwife said. "I personally think it's very inappropriate, but Mr. Todd said that I..."

Catherine Lucas looked around nervously, but was encouraged by a nod from Sweeney.

"I have two teenage daughters, Mary and Rose are their names, and they are looking for proper work to do. We haven't been able to find anything that suits them this far, and... I would never dare ask you, but Mr. Todd insisted... he told me that you need some extra hands in your pie shop and my daughters are more than willing to..."

Mrs. Lucas looked thoroughly embarrassed, but Mrs. Lovett was hardly aware of it. At least the mother was a good and hard working person, she could remember that from the old days, and it was the best chance that was offered her this far.

"When can I meet them?" the baker asked eagerly. "Tomorrow? Or is that too early?"

"Well," Mrs. Lucas said, "they are..."

Mr. Todd chuckled, causing both women to look up at him. With that unfamiliar expression of something like pride still on his face, he opened the door again, gesturing towards someone who was standing in the pie shop.

Before Mrs. Lovett knew it, not one but two more persons entered the parlor, their heads bowed lightly, and hesitantly stood still in front of her.

"This is Rose," Catherine Lucas said, pointing at the dark haired girl who was the tallest of the two. "She's seventeen. And this," she continued, turning to the other girl, whose hair was just as brown as her sister's was, "is Mary. She just turned sixteen."

Both girls bowed politely but a bit clumsily to Mrs. Lovett and the baker smiled lightly when she looked at the girls. Within seconds it was clear to her that they were the kind of person that she had been looking for in vain for a few weeks.

She was quite overwhelmed to find all these people in her house all of a sudden, but the fact that Mr. Todd seemed to be the one who had arranged all this was even more extraordinary. It seemed hard to believe that the man did something to help her, but she wasn't going to complain since she simply _needed _his help with this.

"Well," Sweeney said to the girls, "I think your mother and Mrs. L... _Eleanor_ have a lot to discuss. I think we can better leave them alone now."

He guided the two girls to the kitchen, promising to give them something to eat, which brought a grateful smile to their mother's face.

"Nellie," the midwife said to the baker, "how much do you know about children and giving birth?"

"Not much," Mrs. Lovett admitted quietly. "Nothing, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry about that, my dear," Mrs. Lucas said, placing a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You'll be an expert in just a few days."


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Sweeney stared off into the distance, recalling the look on Nellie's face when he had introduced her to the midwife and her two daughters. The gratitude that he had seen in her eyes had made him feel... strange. He had felt proud because he had helped her and to his surprise, it had felt _good _to do so. And that was odd indeed, for he wasn't supposed to like others, let alone _help _them, especially not if they were called Mrs. Lovett. But still, there was something in her eyes that made it unable for him to look away, to pretend that she could handle the pregnancy all on her own and that he didn't care at all just in case she could not.

It was funny how he still kept calling her Mrs. Lovett to himself. She was supposed to be named Todd now, not only for others but for himself as well, but even though the plan of their fake marriage seemed to be working since he hadn't heard any strange rumors about the baker yet, the thought of the two of them as husband and wife was something very _wrong_, even if they were only pretending in order to protect the shops and the reputations that they needed for him to complete his vengeance. No one had accused her of adultery as far as he knew, none of his customers had said anything negative about her and she wasn't cast out of society. Everything was going to plan, no matter how awful the plan was.

But why did he feel as if he needed her to help in dealing with her pregnancy, or at least, why had he done trouble to find a few people who could assist her during the coming months? And _why_ did he feel like cutting the throat of the man who was staring at the door of Mrs. Lovett's home at that very moment, a light smile on his face?

"Good afternoon, sir," Sweeney said, approaching the man that remained looking intently at the door of the room that the baker was in for a few moments longer, before he turned around to face the person who had spoken to him. "How about a shave?"

When the man considered his answer, the barber took a good look at him. The man wasn't as young as Sweeney had thought him to be at first; his hair was graying, even though his eyes were still of a sparkling blue kind. He wondered what this man had been thinking of exactly when he had been staring at Mrs. Lovett's house.

"Mr. Todd I presume?" the older man asked.

"That's correct," Sweeney replied.

"I am so glad to meet you at last. You are the lucky man that married Nellie Lovett a few months ago, aren't you?"

"I am indeed," he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Very good," the man said, still smiling. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Bill Jones, I live not far from here. I have known Nellie for quite a long time since she was married to one of my best friends. I don't believe you have ever met him because you arrived only after his death, but I'm sure she has told you about Albert?"

"Yes, she has," he replied slowly, guiding the man to the barber shop absent-mindedly while he wondered what the stranger could possibly want from him or the baker.

"I would like us to talk about Nellie for a while," Mr. Jones said. "Can I have a few minutes of your time? And a shave sounds good; perhaps we can combine the two?"

"Of course," Sweeney said, feigning a polite smile.

The two men walked into the barber shop and while Mr. Todd began sharpening his razors even more, just in case, Mr. Jones made himself comfortable in the barber chair.

"Nellie seems to be happy," the older man said casually after a moment of silence. The barber's movements stilled, since he had not expected a comment like this at all. In fact, none of the gossipers that he and Nellie had to deal with seemed to care about something as trifle as _happiness_.

"I'm sure she is," Sweeney replied, trying to sound just as nonchalant.

"You sound as if that doesn't interest you," Bill Jones said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course it matters to me, she's my _wife_ after all," the barber said while he began shaving the older man, suddenly very aware of the wedding ring he was wearing – not Lucy's ring, but the ring he had bought for the 'marriage' to the auburn-haired baker. At that very moment, there seemed nothing fake about the gold around his finger.

"What an interesting choice of words," Bill said quietly. "You see, I've been asking some questions and did some research – very discreetly of course – and I found out the strangest thing. I do presume you know what I'm talking about?"

"I'm afraid not," Sweeney said, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest as he was _very_ aware of what Mr. Jones was talking about. Someone had discovered the truth about Nellie and himself; or at least, had found out that the story they had been telling anyone who asked was not the reality.

"You see, the brother of my late wife is a priest, and since I was curious to the exact whereabouts of Eleanor but didn't want to bother her with more of my concern, I asked my brother in law who exactly had performed your wedding, and on which day and location this had happened. The strange thing is, that he could not _remember_ having heard of a couple with your names. That isn't that odd, but your... circumstances would've made the wedding more memorable."

Mr. Todd held the razor so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but the seemingly oblivious Mr. Jones continued with a calm voice.

"And even when my brother in law made some inquiries of the wedding among his colleagues and we went through the records of the past half year... Well, I think you know what he the result of our little research was. We didn't find _any _proof of a wedding and so I could only conclude that the two of you never married."

Panic began to rise deep within him. Sweeney's first instinct was to cut the man's throat, but this Bill Jones seemed to be genuinely interested in Nellie and he even claimed to be a good friend of her late husband. Just killing this man who, in spite of the information he had gathered, wasn't blackmailing him (yet), just didn't seem right.

Deciding that he would see to where this would lead because he could always kill the man a few minutes later anyway, Sweeney continued shaving as if there was nothing wrong.

"That's right," Sweeney said carefully. "Officially, Nellie and I are not married."

"But you are in love with her?" the other man asked. "Or is there another reason that the two of you pretend to be married? Perhaps, has it something to do with the child she is pregnant with?"

"Yes," Sweeney said through clenched teeth, definitely _not_ wanting to answer the first question.

"Oh yes, the child," Bill Jones said, a bit too cheerful for the barber's liking. "Albert's last wish was a quite unusual one, don't you think?"

"So the child is Albert's?" Sweeney asked, sensing that he should tolerate the presence of this strange man a bit longer if he could learn more about the truth concerning Mrs. Lovett's baby that way. Not because he _cared_, but because this oblivious man was perhaps the only one who could tell him the true story. The baker might have good reasons to lie to him.

"Oh yes, most certainly," Bill said. "What did you think?"

"Well, I..."

"It seems like you don't known Nellie at all, if you even think that she would cheat on her husband," the man snorted. "The child can't be anyone else's. I've been keeping an eye on Nellie, as Albert had asked me to do right before his death. I can assure you that there has been no one else. I am just glad to see that Nellie is pregnant at last. Albert and I were always sure that she'll be a wonderful mother. It's only a pity that this is the first time she's going to have the chance and that Albert won't be here to experience it with her."

"The first time!?" Sweeney echoed, alarm bells going off in his head, both because what Mr. Jones just said was the complete opposite of what the baker herself had told him, and because the shave was almost done and he didn't know how to keep the older man talking even longer without rousing suspicion.

"I hope you can make her happy," Bill Jones said, ignoring the barber's question. His voice was still calm, but Sweeney could feel the implicit threat right beneath the surface of the well meant words. His hands tightened again around the handle of the razor, but the other man, probably knowing that the shave was done or perhaps sensing what kind of man he was dealing with, stood up from the chair before Sweeney had the chance to cut his throat.

"I won't trouble you any longer," Mr. Jones said as he handed Mr. Todd some coins and headed for the exit of the barber shop. "I do hope that we can continue this conversation on a more convenient time. You can find me in Temple Lane."

Without saying one more word, Bill left the room and a bewildered Sweeney Todd stood there speechless for a few long moments. Then the barber realized that Temple Lane wasn't far from Fleet Street and he knew that he needed to visit the man soon, very soon, in order to hear more about Mrs. Lovett and to find out to what extent she had lied to him.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Sweeney Todd spent most of the night awake, trying to understand what Bill Jones, the man who had claimed to be a good friend of the late Albert Lovett, had said to him about the Nellie. Part of him began to doubt whether Bill had actually said that this was the first time that Mrs. Lovett was with a child, but most of the time he was absolutely sure that his ears hadn't been lying; not when the baker had told him coldly that this was her third pregnancy and not when the oblivious Mr. Jones had said that this was her first.

He tended to believe that Mr. Jones had missed something and perhaps wasn't such a good friend as he thought he was, but he didn't trust Mrs. Lovett either. One of them was lying, and whether this was on purpose or not, he wanted to find out. Some knowledge of the woman who he pretended to have married wouldn't hurt, especially if there was a chance that he could expose a lie.

And thus, the barber found himself the following morning on his way to Temple Lane, where he would visit Mr. Jones. He didn't have an actual invitation but the man had been clear enough the previous day. Bill hadn't told him the exact address but the first person that Sweeney asked, gave him the right directions. Apparently, Bill Jones was a relatively well known inhabitant of the quiet street.

A few minutes later, Sweeney was sitting in a comfortable chair in Mr. Jones' house, sipping tea from a small cup.

"I had expected you," Bill said friendly. "It was obvious yesterday that you didn't know much about Nellie and that you want to do something about that."

"Indeed," Sweeney said, in spite of himself feeling at ease as he sat in the quiet parlor and listened to the older man's calm voice. It was clear that the Bill was willing to talk indeed and the barber sensed that all he had to do now, was getting as much information out of the man as possible, even if this meant having to lie a bit about the exact nature of his feelings for the auburn haired baker who they were going to discuss. All he needed was a good way to begin the conversation.

"The idea for this 'marriage' was mine. I only came up with it to ensure the ongoing success of both our shops and to avoid rumors; but lately I find myself... drawn to her. She intrigues me, it seems."

Mr. Todd had to suppress the urge to shudder as he said those words, but Mr. Jones was lost in thought and luckily didn't seem to notice.

"It's not a crime to admit that you like her," he said, a bemused smile on his face.

Perhaps he had noticed after all, but the barber couldn't really interpret the man's facial expression. It seemed as if Bill thought he knew something that Sweeney did not, but Mr. Todd had no idea what this was supposed to be.

"I didn't say I _like_ her," the barber said, hoping to sound like a love-struck man who didn't want to admit to be attracted to a woman, instead of a tormented demon who was only looking for information that would ensure the continuity of his devilish schemes.

"Your behavior suggests otherwise," Bill said, smiling mischievously. "But let us not argue. I'm just glad that, for once in her life, a man that Nellie loves takes an interest in her as well."

The barber's natural reaction was to deny it and say that this statement was utterly ridiculous, but he knew very well that it would be better to play this strange game.

"Didn't they love each other?" Sweeney asked, in spite of the situation quite bewildered, for he had always believed that Nellie and Albert had married out of love – or at least, they had seemed happy together.

"Oh yes, he certainly did," Bill said quietly. "_He_ certainly did. But Nellie... she cared for him, loved him even I think, but not in a romantic way."

"But then why did she marry him?"

In spite of himself, Mr. Todd found himself interested in the strange contradictions that Mr. Jones' story about Nellie and Albert Lovett contained.

"She married him for protection," he said. "And... love. Love, for another man."

"Protection? And love... for _another man_?!" Sweeney echoed, the empty teacup almost falling from his hands as he wondered how much more surprises he was going to have to endure when it came to the auburn haired baker.

"Most certainly. How often Albert has told me about it..."

As he saw the look of bewilderment on the younger man's face, Mr. Jones nodded slowly.

"I think this is the right time to tell you the entire story, or at least, the parts that I know. I can reconstruct Albert's and Nellie's life from the conversations he and I used to have. It is personal information, very personal, but I do believe that it can make you understand our dear Nellie better and that it can contribute to her happiness. The only thing Albert wanted, was Nellie to be happy."

While he stood up and began pacing through the room, Bill began to speak.

"It all started more than twenty year ago, with a man called Benjamin Barker. He was a barber, just like you, and he happened to live in the very room that is now your tonsorial. He was the tenant of Albert and Nellie was deeply in love with this barber, but the problem was that Benjamin Barker was married already - I can't remember the woman's name at the moment. Even though Nellie knew very well that she could never be with Mr. Barker, she refused every man that asked for her hand in marriage. There were many, for even though she was poor, her beauty was rare – or at least, that's what Albert used to say. But she declined every offer, driving her parents and all those men wild because she refused to say _why_ she didn't want to marry them. Albert however... how often he had told me that he was lost, the first time he saw her, when she visited his shop to buy some pies."

Bill smiled lightly, as if he remembered the story as if it had been only yesterday that his friend had told it to him. Mr. Todd however was too bewildered to notice anything.

"Once, Benjamin and his wife came downstairs when Nellie was in the pie shop, and Albert recognized the look in her eyes when she stared at the barber. A few days later, Albert managed to arrange a meeting with her and the first thing he told her, was that he knew that she would never love him. Can you imagine, Mr. Todd? That must've been the strangest proposal in years, if not ever. Albert told Nellie that he would give her a home, food and all the things that she wanted and that were in his power to give her, and he promised her that he would never do anything that she didn't give him permission to. And those are the reasons that she accepted his proposal, or at least, that's what Albert told me: the fact that he would offer her a safe way of living and that he promised her to introduce her to Benjamin, and would even help her to spend time with him."

Mr. Jones had been so caught up in the story that Albert had probably told him numerous times, that he hadn't been really aware of how much he had been talking already. Sweeney was relieved because of this, for he simply didn't know how to react to all this information. His entire being was overwhelmed by everything what he just had heard. Nellie Lovett, in love with Benjamin Barker... in love with _him_, all this time? True, she had always behaved rather strangely whenever he was around, both in the past and in the present, and he had sensed that there was something rather strange about the way Albert always _insisted _he and Nellie would spend time together, _but_ _this..._

"Quite a story, isn't it?" Bill said quietly, looking straight at the barber the first time since he had began talking. "At first sight, it seems so strange, marrying the woman you love only to try to help her make someone else fall in love with her. But when you think about it... the only thing that is extraordinary, is that it is possible for a human being to feel so much love for another person, that he or she is willing to do _anything_ to make the person they love happy."

Mr. Todd was too shocked to even realize what Mr. Jones had said last exactly, but he forced himself to focus when the older man continued talking.

"Albert kept his word. He treated her like the Queen herself and never did anything inappropriate, although he always kept hoping secretly that she would return his feelings one day. But even when Benjamin Barker and his wife... disappeared and many long years passed, she kept longing for a man she could never have and Albert kept loving a woman who he did have, but who wasn't aware of him in a romantic way."

"And what about the child?" Sweeney asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

"Oh yes, the child... Poor Albert. He was dying and his longing for Nellie was still as intense as it had always been. He concluded that there was nothing he had to lose and, with my encouragement I have to admit, asked her to spend one night with him. I don't know the details of course, but when I spoke to Albert a few days later, he looked happier than I had ever seen him. Nellie had accepted his request and although he presumed that she had only done so because she pitied him, he was immensely grateful that he had had one chance at least to experience what it would've been like if the woman he had married would have loved him back."

Mr. Jones looked carefully at the barber as he talked, but Mr. Todd was once again not aware of it.

"And here we are, half a year later; Albert is dead, Nellie his pregnant with his child, you agreed to marry her and she looks at you almost exactly the same way as she used to look at Benjamin Barker."

The older man cast a curious glance on him, before he took Mr. Todd's teacup out of the barber's slightly shaking hands, making clear that the conversation was over.

"And now, my friend, I have talked enough. It's time that you go home to your 'wife' and to find out if Nellie can be loved back by a man she has lost her heart to after all."

Without saying one more word, Bill gently but firmly guided a totally bewildered Mr. Todd out of his house. When the front door closed behind him, Sweeney felt that he was too shocked to do anything, let alone go to the house that he and the baker shared. He had an awful lot to think about, and there was a lot of time he would need to analyse everything that Mr. Jones had said.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he began to walk at random, while his mind began the immense task of figuring out what had been going on between Albert and Nellie, and what was going on between the auburn haired baker and himself.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sweeney Todd didn't notice how his feet carried his dumbfounded body away from the house where he had heard such a shocking story. It was tempting to believe that Mr. Jones had made up all the tragic developments in Mrs. Lovett's life, but the man didn't seem to be the kind of person to do something like that. And besides, why should he say such things about the baker if they weren't true?

Mr. Todd wandered through the streets of London while he tried to make sense of what he had just been told, not aware of anything except for the turmoil in his mind.

The idea that Mrs. Lovett had been in love with him for more than twenty years was utterly bizarre, but at the same time it might explain the rather strange way she behaved whenever he was around, both now and in the old days. She always had seemed drawn to him sometimes, but whenever she was actually close to him, she would stare at him without saying a word or chatter on endlessly without really _saying_ anything. Sometimes, he had wondered vaguely what caused this, but his revenge craving mind had never bothered to really think about it.

But his quest for vengeance wasn't going as well as it should at all, and even though he was most of the time using all his focus to think of a better way to lure the Judge and the Beadle into his barber chair, his mind refused to think of those two during the hours that he walked through London aimlessly.

Instead, he thought of the baker, trying to analyze, to _understand_, what he had heard about her. He also realized something of which he hadn't been aware before. For in spite of his quest, he had been spending more time with Mrs. Lovett than was necessary for a few weeks already and although he had never really thought about it, pretending to be married to her was much easier than he had ever imagined.

The things that Bill Jones had said about her shocked him, bu they intrigued him at the same time. He made himself belief that this was because there were some remarkable differences between the stories that Mr. Jones and Nellie herself had told him, but an almost lost part of his being felt sorry for the woman and was simply _curious _about her.

In the old days, before they were married, his worst nightmare used to be that Lucy wouldn't return the intense love that he felt for her. Luckily this fear hadn't lasted long and he never had to experience the horrible lack of completeness in his life that he presumed he would've felt if Lucy hadn't loved him as much as he cared for her. He dreaded to think of how terrible it must be like to feel like that for twenty _years_.

When his mind had began analyzing all the things he knew about Nellie Lovett earlier that day, he had done so because he wanted to find out whether she had lied about her previous pregnancies or that Bill Jones wasn't as well informed as he thought himself to be. But while thinking about the auburn haired baker, he became more and more curious about her and her life, in a way that went further than suspicion regarding some of the things she had told him.

His feet carried him mile after pointless mile and he lost track of the time, while he kept thinking about Mrs. Lovett and her mysterious past. Only when he couldn't see his own shoes anymore, nor any building surrounding him, and the evening air chilled his skin, he returned to Fleet Street with a speed that was for some reason faster than usual.

When he arrived by the stairs leading to the first floor of number 186, he hesitated. After a moment, he didn't go upstairs like he always did, but entered the pie shop instead. The door to the shop was open, probably because Toby was still working there. The young boy cast a curious glance on him, but didn't say anything when the barber quietly made his way into the parlor of the house. He found the room empty and just like a few months ago, when he had confronted the baker after he had just heard about her pregnancy, he knew were to find her.

This time he was less determined to speak to her, but deep inside of him he felt the urge to know the truth. The thought that Nellie Lovett might be in love with him bothered him to the extent that he wanted to be absolutely sure of her feelings. If Mr. Jones had told him the truth indeed, he wanted to stay out of her way, just in case her behavior would turn out to be... contagious. He had learned to tolerate the baker during the past few months and he felt sorry for her. But if Mr. Jones' story was true indeed, he had to distance himself from her. Whether that was because he didn't want to hurt her with is close presence, or because he was afraid that _he_ would be the one unable to stand seeing her lonely and unhappy, he didn't know.

He moved towards her bedroom and knocked on the door, waiting for her soft and questioning reply before entering the room.

When he stepped into the light of the single candle that was burning on her nightstand, her eyes went wide with relief and she moved quickly closer to him.

In that moment, he _knew _that Bill Jones hadn't lied when it came to her feelings for him. He wondered how he possible couldn't have recognized the look in her eyes all those other times that she had stared at him so lovingly.

"Mr. Todd," she whispered. "I was so worried... you just disappeared this morning and I had no idea where..."

Right after the moment he realized that not one word that the oblivious Mr. Jones had told him about Nellie's feelings for him had been a lie, he knew with as much certainty that he couldn't leave this woman, couldn't distance himself from her in these hard times, even not if it might compromise his marriage to Lucy. And besides, Mrs. Lovett didn't only need a man who pretended to be her husband; her child would need a father – a _real_ father. The child deserved to grow up in a normal family; he didn't want to see another child ending up like his daughter, even though this child wasn't his own. She needed him – _they _needed him – and whether the baker's love for him made it hard or not, he _had_ to be there for them.

Sweeney scrutinized Mrs. Lovett for a few moments. He couldn't recall any moment in which someone had looked at him the way his landlady was doing at that very moment and once again he found himself wondering how it was _possible_ that the longing in her eyes when she looked at him had never caught his attention.

He hushed her gently, but she wasn't calmed by his for once soothing voice. Part of him was touched that she actually worried about him and that she couldn't be comforted with a few softly spoken words. After a short moment of hesitation, he took her hands in his own and squeezed them lightly.

"I'm here," he said, "and for me, disappearing completely once in a lifetime is quite enough."

The words were innocent and didn't mean a lot to him, but Mrs. Lovett looked just like she had done after he had sworn that he would never hurt her or her child. He just _saw_ the hope finding its way onto her face and instead of being repulsed by it, he felt drawn to the desperate gleam in her eyes.

"What were you doing?" he asked, pointing at the book that she was still holding, hoping to get a conversation between the two of them started without having the situation escalate any further. He might care about Mrs. Lovett and be willing to accompany the woman who had known such loneliness, but he should care about her child in the first place; the baby was the one who was small and vulnerable, not the baker herself. She didn't need his protection after all and what she did need was something that he couldn't give. In a strange way, _she _was the one he should be careful with, not the child.

"I was reading," she said, blushing lightly. "For the baby. Cathy said that makes the bond between mother and child stronger."

"It seems you are quite fond of your midwife," Sweeney said, still proud of the fact that he had persuaded the woman, who had retired a few year ago, to go back to the work that she had done most of her life for one last time.

"She's such a wonderful woman," Mrs. Lovett said enthusiastically, "and she seems to know exactly what she is talking about. I'm very glad that you have found her for me, Mr. Todd. And I haven't even thanked you..."

"I'm glad that you find her helpful," the barber said, "but you don't have to thank me for..."

Even though she was pregnant, the baker moved surprisingly fast. Before Sweeney could even blink, Nellie got up from the bed and moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his back and managing to pull herself close to him in spite of her expanded belly.

Mr. Todd's initial reaction was to push the baker away from him, but his body froze when he felt the soft body of the woman against his own.

After a few moments, he returned the embrace. Not because he felt sorry for the woman and her tragic past, but to apologize for the horrible way he had treated her in the early stage of the pregnancy. He wanted her to _feel_ that he was really sorry now for what he had done then and that the was more than willing to make that right.

But yet, deep inside of him, in a part of his being that had almost ceased to exist, he enjoyed the way her warm body melted against his and her auburn curls tickled his skin.

Because of the very personal things concerning Nellie Lovett that had been revealed to him so recently, he was seeing the baker in a completely different light. Although this new knowledge of her shouldn't influence his behavior towards her, it slowly began to dawn on him that it might be hard to continue behaving indifferently towards the loving woman who he was holding at that very moment.


	18. Chapter 17

_Sorry for the long wait. Uni work was terrible the past few weeks but I'll try to get back to updating this frequently =)_

* * *

Chapter 17

In spite of Mr. Todd's comforting gesture, or perhaps because of it, Mrs. Lovett was trembling in absolute delight. She had reacted too impulsively to Sweeney's strange but very pleasant behavior and she feared that she had ruined the moment by hugging him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. No matter how much she enjoyed being so close to him, she knew very well that this was the perfect way to destroy the fragile friendship that had began to develop between the two of them. But of course, she had only realized that when it was too late, when her body was already pressed against his. Thinking before acting had never been a specialty of hers.

But instead of pushing her away from him like she was absolutely sure he'd do, he returned the embrace and thus the baker found herself in the arms of none other than Sweeney Todd. She savored the comfort and unexpected tenderness of the moment, sighing in contentment when he pulled her just a bit closer to him, his hands resting lightly on her hips.

And as if it wasn't enough yet, Sweeney's hands removed themselves for a moment, but only to place them on her lower back, caressing her body gently.

Nellie sighed in delight once more, her head resting on the barber's shoulder. She vaguely knew that she should worry because Mr. Todd would usually never treat her like this and the fact that he did now indicated that there had to be something wrong, but having his warmth and strength so close to her was overwhelming her to the extent that she could hardly think.

When he gently removed himself from her, a few minutes later, he stared at the baker as if he had never seen her before. Once again, Mrs. Lovett wondered what had happened exactly during the day that he had been away, how it could be that he behaved so much like she had wanted him to do for so long. Something had definitely changed within him, but she had no idea what exactly, or what had caused it.

"Read some more," he said quietly.

It took her a few seconds to realize what he was talking about, as she was inwardly still recovering from the fact that Sweeney Todd himself had held her in his arms. Only when he pointed at the book that had fallen on the bed when she had flung herself at him, she understood what he wanted her to do.

"You want me to continue reading?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "There's no reason for you to stop doing what you were doing just because I am here."

She absolutely agreed with him, but she had to suppress the urge to remind him that he had _expected_ her to adapt to his wishes since the moment he had appeared in her shop after an absence of fifteen years. But, as she thought of it, it was even stranger that he was visiting her at this hour, in her _bedroom _of all places.

"Mr. T, are you alright?" she asked, sensing more and more that something strange must've happened for him to behave the way he was currently doing.

"Yes," he said quickly, but he refused to look at her, making it clear to Mrs. Lovett that something _was _going on. His opinion of her seemed to have changed in a good way, and although this was something she appreciated very much, the baker didn't feel at ease because of this sudden change.

Doing as he had requested, she picked up the book and made herself more comfortable in her bed, continuing the fairy tale she had begun reading before the barber had returned. She felt rather silly to read aloud to a person who wasn't even born yet now that there was someone else in the room, but Sweeney gave no sign that he disapproved of what she was doing.

So she continued reading, successfully hiding her shock when Mr. Todd sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to her, to listen to the children's story about the poor girl and the prince who fell in love. He stared off into space, as if he was actually imaging the events of the story, or perhaps he recalled the fairy tale and had he read it to his little Johanna once, or perhaps his own mother had read it to him, even longer ago.

The baker could have go on like that for hours, reading an innocent and sweet story while looking secretly at the man she loved, every time she turned a page or paused between paragraphs. But she had been reading for quite a long time, and she had been talking to her customers and apprentices all day. Her voice was hoarse and it was getting harder and harder for her to read aloud.

Feeling sad because this calm moment between Mr. Todd, the baby and herself would end soon, she was about to close the book. However, Sweeney surprised her once more. He moved closer to her until he was sitting right next to her and located the sentence that she had been reading. Without saying a word, he settled himself down next to her and continued reading.

The barber had bewildered her so often already that evening, that Mrs. Lovett wasn't even really surprised anymore. Instead of questioning his motives, the auburn haired baker just sat back against her pillow to listen to Sweeney. His voice was blank but still, it was intriguing to hear him read a fairy tale, especially because he was reading it for _her_ baby. Just being able to listen to his voice was quite an unusually pleasant thing in the first place.

His quiet voice lulled her into sleep and thus, she wasn't aware of the fact that her head slumped against his shoulder. Nor did she notice that he continued reading until he was absolutely sure that she was asleep, and then closed the book, placing it on her nightstand.

Sweeney stood up and pushed the blankets from her bed, rearranged the pillow and lifted her easily, laying her down in a comfortable way before covering her with the blankets.

He remained watching her for a few minutes, a neutral expression on his face but with a strange twinkle in his eyes, before he returned to his room.

When he arrived there, he settled himself in his barber chair and his thoughts began to wonder once again. But this time, he didn't brood about the Judge or his Lucy and Johanna, but the mysterious life of Nellie Lovett.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The next day, Sweeney found himself checking on Mrs. Lovett quite often. He knew very well that the woman was perfectly capable of handling things by herself (she had done so for a long time after all), but the difference now was that he didn't feel at ease anymore about dropping all those corpses in her bakehouse only to let her get rid of them. In the past he didn't care at all, he didn't even _think _about it, but things had changed. He wasn't sure whether this was because of the baker's pregnancy or because he knew so much more about her and understood her better than he had done before.

The conversation he had had with Mr. Jones about Nellie had certainly caused his opinion of the auburn haired woman to change, but Sweeney had the suspicion that the child that was growing inside of her had made him realize at last that she was more than a pie baker who happened to play a useful part in his plans. And besides, she had proven herself to be more than worthy. He had feared that she would've stopped working the minute she had announced her pregnancy, but with the help of Toby and the two new girls, she was still very capable of taking care of all the bodies that ended up in the bakehouse. She was a bloody wonder indeed.

While he was working, he often found himself looking forward to the end of the day. Once he had eaten the meal that Mrs. Lovett had brought him and he had cleaned the barber shop thoroughly, he went to the baker's part of the house. Once again, she wasn't in the bakehouse or the parlor. He found her sitting in bed, with the book they had been reading in the next day as well.

"Mr. Todd!" she said as soon as she noticed him standing just inside of her room again, the surprise in her voice clear.

"Mrs. Lovett," he greeted her.

For a moment, he was frozen and just stood near the threshold, as if rooted to the ground. He was at a loss of words, wondering what the hell he was actually doing into her bedroom in the dark hours of the rainy evening and where the ridiculous urge to go to her just so he could see her had come from.

"It's good to see you again," she said, smiling.

Sweeney just nodded, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want me to read again?" she asked, before the silence grew uncomfortable.

"No," he said.

The look of disappointment on her face caused a small jolt that he was unaccustomed to, somewhere deep inside of him.

"Not yet," he added. "I want to talk."

"About what?" she asked, looking worried.

"Just... talk," he said, choosing his words more carefully to avoid suggesting that something was wrong for a second time, but finding it hard to ask her just to talk about something that didn't involve their plans regarding his customers and her pies. But yet, he _wanted_ her just to talk to him, as if they were actually interested in each other and the way they had spent their day. "Tell me about something you did today."

"Well," she said hesitantly, obviously wondering what the sudden attention of him could possibly mean and _why_ he was seemingly interested in her daily routine. "I worked in the bakehouse and kept an eye on Cathy's daughters in the shop. When the work was done and the customers went home, we had dinner together and after that, Toby and the girls went to the shop to clean and play cards, and Cathy and I talked about the baby."

Mrs. Lovett looked at Mr. Todd shyly, not knowing if she had reacted correctly to Sweeney's unusual request to 'just talk'.

"I trust Mrs. Lucas is useful?" the barber asked.

"Oh yes, certainly," she replied. "I wouldn't know what to do without her. She takes so much time to tell me about what's it's like to be a mother and she gives a lot of good advice. It's unbelievable how much time she spends here. Doesn't she have other customers at the moment?"

"She doesn't," Sweeney replied, already sensing what her next question would be.

"Why not?"

"She retired a few years ago, after she had problems with her health."

"Then why is she at work to help me now?"

"Because I told her that I knew of her extremely good reputation and that I was sure that she was the only one who could ensure the survival of both my child and my beloved wife."

Those words caused a shiver to run down the baker's spine. Of course, she _knew_ that the barber had only said this to Mrs. Lucas because he wanted the midwife's help to make sure she would survive, but only so she could go back to the work he wanted her to do once the baby was born. But still, to hear him refer to her as 'my beloved wife' while talking to her...

"During the years after her retirement," Mr. Todd continued, not aware of the reaction that his words had caused, "she found out that the pain in her back wasn't as bothersome when she could stay at home to take care of her family and the household. However, her husband died a while ago, and since she needed an income, she was willing to accept my... generous offer."

The happiness Nellie had felt upon hearing the barber's words, was turned to grief as she learned of the fate of Mrs. Lucas' husband. But at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder how much money Sweeney had offered the midwife to persuade her to get back to work. Mrs. Lucas seemed to be someone who enjoyed her work a lot and wouldn't be tended to quit as long as it wasn't really necessary. The baker was quite eager to find out how much exactly the barber had been willing to pay to get such a good midwife for her, but she knew that he would never tell her.

"Do you want me to read again?" she asked, hoping to persuade Sweeney to stay with her some longer and knowing that he wouldn't say more about Cathy Lucas than he had done already.

"Yes," the barber replied, much to her delight. "But first, we have to do something about that pillow you are leaning against. It's old and it's not comfortable enough for you, giving your... condition."

Before she could object (the pillow was her favorite one), Sweeney moved forwards, dangerously close to her, and helped her to move away from the pillow, creating distance between the baker herself and the headboard of the bed against which the pillow pressed.

To Mrs. Lovett's complete surprise, the barber positioned himself between her and the pillow and gestured her to lean back against him. Bewildered, she did as he asked, trying to control her breathing as she felt Sweeney's body right behind her own. He shifted his weight in such a way that they were more comfortable. Mr. Todd had been absolutely right that this was a much more pleasant way to sit on the bed; no matter how soft the pillow was, Sweeney's body against her own felt much, _much_ better. But of course, he hadn't meant it _that _way. Their bodies fit together perfectly and Mrs. Lovett wondered if Sweeney was aware of that as well.

Apparently not, and as if it wasn't enough yet, he wrapped his arms around her, so they could hold the book together.

"Now it's time to read," he said softly, his mouth deliciously close to her ear.

Mrs. Lovett shuddered lightly at his closeness, knowing very well that she couldn't focus on _reading_ that evening.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sweeney Todd had felt something strange deep within himself when he had looked at Mrs. Lovett, who looked so peaceful as she was sitting in bed while reading a fairy tale for her unborn child. It took him several minutes to recognize the feeling: envy.

The baker was going to have what he didn't have anymore, what was taken from him all those years ago: a family. A few weeks before he had already realized that Nellie and her child were the closest to a family that he would ever have again. But now he began to wonder if it wasn't more than that, if perhaps being only a small part of their family would remind him of the happiness he once had known. Only feeling a little what it had been like all those years ago with his own wife and child might bring back the memories of those old days, memories that had faded just like everything he remembered about anything before he was banished. It suddenly seemed so tempting, experiencing once again what it was like to not be alone all the time, to interact with people who would trust him unconditionally, _love_ him. It were things of which he wasn't sure that they were still possible, but perhaps, they were.

Of course, the baker and he had made believe everyone who asked that he _was_ the father of the baby, but technically that wasn't true. But he _had _promised that he would look after the two of them, that he would protect them, and that somehow made him a little part of the baker's family as well, didn't it?

But as he witnessed how close the soon to be mother and the child inside of her already were, Mr. Todd knew that he needed to do more than giving some advice every once and a while and helping the baker by finding her people who could help her better than he could now that her life was changing so drastically.

He had feared that the more time passed and the longer he didn't know what would be the right thing to do, the harder it would be for him to find a suitable place in the little family that would soon come to exist. But just before it was too late, he had found a way to ensure his place in the family. And it was all because of a coincidental meeting with a certain Bill Jones, a good friend of Nellie's late husband, who had told him that the auburn haired baker had been madly in love with Benjamin Barker, being totally oblivious of the fact that he had been talking to the very same man.

The truth concerning Mrs. Lovett's feelings for him, both in the past and now, should've bothered him. He should be upset because the baker wasn't supposed to feel anything for him – it was Lucy's privilege, whether she was dead or not. However, he understood his landlady so much more now, but at the same time, he was reluctant to spend time with her, afraid that he would fuel her feelings. But as he had watched her closely during the day, without her being aware of it, he realized that it didn't matter whether he was around or not; her feelings for him wouldn't change. After all, even fifteen years of absence hadn't weakened her feelings for him.

At the same time, Sweeney had realized that there was one ultimate way to be a part of the life of the child; the only chance he would ever have of being a father again. If he would show Mrs. Lovett that he was willing to be an actual father for her child, she would accept it, if only because she, if she was really as desperate as Bill Jones had made him believe, would do about anything to spend time with him and keep the hope of something more than that alive.

And that was why he found himself in Mrs. Lovett's bed, her body leaning back against his own, and his arms around her waist. At first, it was rather awkward to him, but soon he felt strangely at ease as the baker's body was leaning against his own and her hair, just as wild as always, tickled his skin. He could smell her and feel her every move, but once again, it wasn't as bad as he had feared at first. If only that nagging voice in the back of his head would stop reminding him that he was playing a very dangerous game, interacting with a woman who loved him but who he didn't and wouldn't love back, he might've relaxed completely for the first time since many, many years.

They both read in turn for the child and even though the barber wasn't as calm as he would've liked, he didn't only enjoy the quietness and peacefulness of the moment, which reminded him more and more of the life he had had once, but he also found out that Mrs. Lovett's voice was strangely appealing. It calmed him just as much as the innocent story that they were reading did. In fact, her voice was quite relaxing and it did something that hardly anything had managed to do for a very long time: lull him asleep.

Sweeney was dozing off gradually, but before he was actually sleeping, a sudden movement woke him abruptly, bringing him back to his usual, alert self.

"The baby," Mrs. Lovett gasped.

"What?!" Sweeney said loudly, panic rising in his chest. Had something happened while he was there; had something hurt the baby or the baker when he had been falling _asleep_ while he was supposed to protect them?

"It kicked," Nellie said in awe. "It did so before, but never so..."

The baker gasped again. Mr. Todd moved closer to her, leaning over her shoulder, so he could see the look on her face to find out what was going on exactly. He expected to see shock or perhaps pain, but instead, he saw something more beautiful than anything he had seen the past fifteen years.

Nellie's eyes were closed, a small frown on her forehead, and there was an expression of wonder and amazement written on her face. She seemed to be completely unaware of his presence, lost in a world that didn't include him, but then she took his hand and placed it on her stomach.

"Mr. T," she whispered urgently, "you have to feel it."

As if the child was aware of it, it kicked again at that very moment, causing Sweeney to feel the movement right beneath his hand.

"Do you feel that?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he answered, almost at a loss of words upon feeling such a miraculous thing. It was not only the creature inside of his landlady's body that overwhelmed him. Of course, it was extraordinary to feel something so small move beneath his hand, but what impressed Sweeney even more was the knowledge that the hand, that had killed so many men during the past few months without the lightest tremble, was shaking now that it felt something that was _alive; _something that he didn't intend to kill, but to protect. It seemed as if his dying soul was rejuvenated by the innocence of Mrs. Lovett's unborn child.

As if that all wasn't enough yet, the baker took his usually cold hand in her own, moving and pressing it against the fabric of her dress, allowing him to feel the movements of the child better.

Only much later, Mr. Todd would realize that this night was the one during which he had wordlessly adopted Nellie and Albert's Lovett's child as his own. And as their entwined hands not only felt the baby's movements but subconsciously explored the shape of that part of the baker's pregnant body as well, Sweeney had begun to the see the auburn haired woman not only as a mother, but as a future wife as well.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sweeney Todd knew very well that he would never experience happiness in his life again – not now that everything he had loved and cared for was taken, destroyed and gone. But yet, he hadn't expected that there would be moments in which he would not feel miserable. Now, thanks to the unexplainable influence that the creature inside of Mrs. Lovett's body and the cheerful woman herself had on him, he was almost... content.

_Almost_.

Except for the absence of his wife and his daughter, there was something else that was wrong. _The Judge_. He was still alive, just like he had been when he had banished Sweeney and stole his wife. He was alive, even though so many others already died in his place, and it was quite clear that if the barber would go on like he was doing now, Turpin would be alive for much, much longer. Whatever the reason was, the Judge hadn't showed up in his shop yet. Since there had passed several months since Sweeney's return to London, it seemed unlikely that Turpin would visit his tonsorial parlor in the future since he hadn't done so yet already.

Mr. Todd had to think of something else; he had to come up with a better plan to kill the man who had ruined his family, but thus far, there hadn't been a second epiphany. Now that it was becoming more and more clear that the Judge would never come to his shop and he would be killing anonymous men forever, Sweeney's mood wasn't improving. _There must be a way to the Judge_ was the sentence that found its way into his head countless times a day. But in spite of the frequency of this thought, he hadn't actually found that way and he wasn't entirely sure he ever would.

Of course, it would be so easy just to go Turpin's house, which was doubtlessly one of the most beautiful in town and thus easy to find, and stab the man in his own home and be done with it. It would be very dramatic, just as unexpected for the Judge as the things he had done to the barber all these years ago, and Turpin would certainly be dead very quickly. But so would Sweeney himself be, for it was sure that he wouldn't get away with murdering such an important man and would pay for it with his own life. Perhaps he wouldn't have minded that a few months ago, but now… no.

It was more and more clear to him that there were possible new beginnings, new things to live for, things he had, and perhaps _wanted_, to do. Mostly, he had to protect Mrs. Lovett. She was very capable of doing so herself, but she was still a woman and if it weren't for him, what would happen if she would be all by herself again? She had more than enough money now, thanks to the success of the pie shop, but good protection was something that couldn't be bought, especially if one _had_ a lot of money like Mrs. Lovett now. Besides, hadn't he promised her that he would help her raise the child? He couldn't really do that if he was dead.

No, Mr. Todd didn't want to die for murdering the Judge. Mrs. Lovett, and the child, needed him. And he _was_ quite eager to be around when the child was born, and he _did _want to see it grow up and raise it himself. He was almost... curious to the character and looks of the child. Would it be cheerful and kind, like the baker, or would it be more quiet and distant, like he remembered Albert Lovett?

It took him a long moment to realize that he was thinking about the baby as if it were his own, and an ever longer moment to see that it was not exactly what he should spend his energy on, knowing that there could be nothing he could devote himself to as long as the Judge was still alive. There was work to be done; actual work, that didn't include seemingly random thoughts about his pregnant landlady. He had walked around wearing a blood stained shirt for hours and he realized it only at that moment. It was a good thing that the redness on the usually white fabric was caused by the murder of his last customer of the day.

Shaking his head, knowing that he couldn't allow himself to lose focus – not now, not ever – not until Turpin was dead. He began unbuttoning the shirt, suddenly feeling uncomfortable wearing the blooded material, only then seeing that there weren't any clean shirts left.

Mrs. Lovett would probably bring him new ones soon, but he didn't want her to walk those stairs to his room in her condition. The steps were wet from the rain that had been falling all day and he didn't like the thought of her climbing them, risking to fall because of the slippery wood. Besides, he was sure that there was a good reason that she hadn't brought him those shirts yet in the first place; she was doubtlessly busy with other things – better things.

There were times that he had blamed her for not assisting him immediately and unconditionally, but lately it didn't bother him anymore. The baker was doing her very best for him and even though she had three apprentices now, her pregnancy prevented her from doing hard work from early morning until late night and getting all things done that she usually managed to finish.

Deciding that he would get the shirts now and would even wash them himself if necessary, he went to the bakehouse.

However, every thought of shirts and even the Judge disappeared immediately when he pushed open the heavy door to the basement and descended the chairs.

Before he was downstairs, he saw Mrs. Lovett, and even though her back was facing him, he could tell that there was something horribly wrong. The baker was leaning over the open sewer, her small frame shaking violently.

"Mrs. Lovett?!" he said, but to his horror, she didn't react. It didn't seem possible that she hadn't heard him, for he had spoken loudly. "Mrs. Lovett!"

The barber rushed to her, immediately overwhelmed by the stench that was always present in the basement. Very soon he found out why her body had been shaking so much. Mrs. Lovett was throwing up and even though it was quite clear that her dinner, having mixed up with the dark, dirty water in the sewer, was floating towards the Thames already, she didn't seem to feel better yet.

When he had hastily crossed the last yards between them, he wrapped an arm around her to support her trembling body and used the hand of his other arm to wipe the long hair out of her extremely pale and sweat covered face.

"Mrs. Lovett," he said to her, even louder than before, "what's wrong?"

Yelling at her obviously wasn't the best thing to do, but it was the only way to express his worry. But she didn't reply, didn't even seem to be aware of him.

Even though he was holding the baker, her weakened limbs failed her. She collapsed, but Sweeney managed to grab her before she fell into the disgusting water of the sewer, or, almost worse, onto the hard, too unclean floor.

Only then he saw that there was blood, lots of it, on her hands, her clothes, even on her face… everywhere.

"Nellie," he whispered, his worry for her too great now to care for such formalities as proper addressing, and his voice breaking. "The child…"

She still didn't answer, didn't even look at him. Instead, her eyes, which had been staring at a point in the distance without focus, fluttered close and her entire body fell against him when she fainted.

Fear overwhelmed Sweeney as he realized what all this blood on her body might mean. Whether what she had said about her other children was true or not, he didn't want her to have a miscarriage. First or third, she did not deserve it.

Desperate to check his own hypothesis, he roughly lifted the blooded skirt and sighed in relief as he hardly saw any blood on her thighs or legs. The red stains on her clothing and hands were doubtlessly blood, but at least it was clear now that it was not her own. But what had caused all this then?

Another realization hit him and he growled in anger as he looked around in the bakehouse, taking in the stench of death and decay, the incomplete skeletons, the recently killed bodies, and most of all, the blood. It was simply everywhere.

It was no wonder that the baker had fainted. Unlike probably any other woman, Mrs. Lovett had been able to handle all this, even when she was pregnant. But now that her body wasn't home of one person, but two, the latter growing rapidly, it was clear that he had asked too much of her after all.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Sweeney's initial reaction was to run upstairs to fetch the midwife, hoping that she would be able to help Mrs. Lovett. But as he looked at the decaying bodies in the basement and the blood on the baker's body and clothes, it was clear that this was not a good idea. If Mrs. Lucas would see the massacre in the basement of the house where she had been working for weeks, Mrs. Lovett and the child would most certainly die at the gallows. And of course, someone would probably figure out very soon that the barber that lived upstairs played a major part in the criminal activities as well.

Mr. Todd didn't know a lot about fainted women, especially not ones that are pregnant, but he did realize that the air, which was heavy with the smell of rotting corpses and all kinds of dirt in the sewer, wouldn't do her any good.

Intending to take her to the clean air of the parlor, where no countless dead bodies were lying randomly on the floor, and to find Mrs. Lucas then to let her take care of the baker, Sweeney lifted her up quite easily and carried her out of the bakehouse.

"Mrs. Lucas," he yelled, quite desperate to find the midwife soon; not only because he didn't want to be responsible for the baker any longer, but because he actually _wanted _her to be alright. "Mrs. Lucas!"

But no one reacted to his impatient shouts and only then Sweeney realized that it was late in the evening, perhaps even after midnight, and that the midwife had gone home a long time ago and that the three youths that helped in the pie shop, where all asleep now.

It was probably a good thing that there was no one else awake. The baker was covered in blood from head to toe and she could absolutely not be seen like that, no matter how serious her condition was. An experienced midwife, or even anyone who possessed some common sense, would see immediately that there was no natural explanation for all the blood that was on her clothes and on her limbs, and even covered some parts of her unhealthily pale face. It was perhaps rather fortunate that Mrs. Lucas wasn't around, for he would hate having to cut the woman's throat, which would be awfully necessary if she would find out what was going on exactly in 186 Fleet Street. He wouldn't have any other choice, no matter how much he would regret killing the woman who wasn't only very important to Mrs. Lovett, but who was quite kind to him as well.

Sweeney knew where Mrs. Lucas lived and he could fetch her, or a doctor if the situation got worse, the moment he wanted to. But the trouble was, that no one could see the woman, no matter how severe her situation, as long as she was wearing blood soaked clothes and there were stains all over her skin. She might be in danger now, but everything would get much, _much _worse if others saw her like this. It didn't require much for anyone to understand that the blood wasn't caused by some sort of innocent activity and if anyone would see her now, this person would probably either search the building and thus find the corpses in the basement, or make a connection between the blood stained baker and the mysterious disappearances of so many men that had visited his barber shop, which was of course located in the very same building. If that would happen, Mrs. Lovett and he would be both death. That was not a possibility, like what the baker's current condition could lead to, but a fact. Even though it went against his instincts, he couldn't get any help for the woman who was suffering because of him and the things that he had made her do, or at least, not until the blood was gone.

Knowing that he couldn't afford to lose more time, he rushed to the baker's bedroom, still carrying her in his arms. He placed her on her bed with care, making sure that her head was comfortably resting on a pillow. He opened the protesting window as far as he could to let in some relatively fresh air. It seemed that it would be the best thing to try to let her wake up in the peaceful environment of her own room.

He sat down on the edge of the bed awkwardly and leaned over the baker's unmoving body, slapping his hand against her cheek lightly. In the past, he had often been annoyed to the extreme by her chatter, but now there were few things he would rather hear than the almost endless stream of words coming out of her mouth.

"Mrs. Lovett, wake up," he said, his voice quiet but urgent. He knew that she wasn't sleeping, but he didn't know what else to say, for anything else would emphasize the fact that he basically was the one who had done this to her. "Wake up!"

But she didn't open her eyes and there was no indication that she would do so in the near future. Again, he realized that the woman had fainted after she had almost thrown up her own _lungs_. This wasn't something that happened to pregnant women – or at least, not as far as he knew – and he had to do _something_ before it would get worse.

"Mrs. Lovett," he whispered, "you have to be strong, just a bit longer... think of the child."

He wasn't particularly proud of the last thing he said, but he hoped that there was still some part of his landlady's being that could hear him and would be encouraged by the thought of her child, that her currently failing body still had to take care for.

"Nellie?"

It seemed only right to use her first name now, and part of him hoped that this would somehow make it easier for him to connect with her in her unconscious state.

He slapped her face once more, a bit more firmly this time, as he repeated her given name, louder than before. But neither had the desired result. The woman remained lying motionlessly except for the too slow heaving of her chest, that was caused by her weak breathing.

It was hard not to give in to the tendency to run away from her and find someone who could help her better than he ever could, someone who could actually find out what was wrong with her and do something about it. But there was still blood, so much blood, which had to be gone first.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a bucket of water standing in the room, next to a pile of clean clothes. The baker had clearly intended to come back here as soon as her work in the basement was done to clean and change her clothes in the privacy of her bedroom, where even Toby wouldn't interrupt or see her.

But no matter how well this usually doubtlessly worked, she couldn't do the cleaning and changing herself right now and he was the only one who was able to do it for her.

There was an empty glass standing on her nightstand and he filled it with water from the bucket, sensing that she would probably want to drink something if – _when_ – she woke up, before placing it back, careful not to waste any of the liquid.

Dragging the bucket over to the bed, Sweeney wet his right hand in the water and moved it to Mrs. Lovett's face, hoping that the coldness and freshness of the water would help her regain consciousness. It didn't, or at least not yet, and because there was nothing else to do, he used his wet hand to rub the blood and gore from her cheeks instead.

However, the blood was drying already and just water wasn't enough to get the red layers off her skin. He needed soap, or at least a washcloth, but he felt that he couldn't waste time looking for them. Instead, he took off his own shirt, only vaguely realizing how vulnerable that made him, since his vest was still in his barber shop, where he had left it in his hurry to go to the bakehouse to get clean shirts.

He tore some fabric off his shirt and wet it in the bucket, then moved it quickly to his landlady's form to rub her face. Soon, the cloth was stained, but her skin was clean – or at least, as clean as could be given the circumstances.

In a way, it was even more disturbing to see her when almost all of the redness gone, for it was even more clear that way how pale her skin really was. But his approach was working; he could get rid of the blood this way relatively easily. If he would just continue like this with her arms and some other, smaller parts that her dress didn't cover and then change her into clean clothes, he could safely find proper help for her at last.

Feeling he didn't have the time to wash the piece of his shirt that he was cleaning Mrs. Lovett's skin with before using it again, Sweeney tore another, still clean part off his shirt. After he had wet this former piece of his clothing as well, he cleaned her arms the same way as he had cleaned her face. Or at least, it wasn't hard to do so with the lower part of her arms after he had removed her blood soaked gloves. The rest of them was covered by the blood stained fabric of her dress.

Knowing that there was no other way to complete the task any other way and that he couldn't afford to lose one more second, the barber took the razor from his belt and began to cut the dress. He dropped the fabric mercilessly on the floor but made sure not to accidentally destroy any of her other clothes, let alone her skin, even though his hand was trembling. The dress was soon nothing but a few rags, but he promised himself that he would give her enough money to buy a new dress later. He only hoped that there would _be _a 'later' for her.

Now that there wasn't any fabric in the way anymore, it was much easier to remove the blood from her upper arms. With the help of the improvised washcloth and water from the bucket, her skin was free from any evidence of the work she had done in the basement of her pie shop quite soon.

Making sure that the bloody remains of the dress were out of sight, he sighed with relief as he realized that the stretching fabric that she had been wearing beneath the dress instead of the usual corset was hardly stained.

Even though he was too busy with cleaning her to actually look at her, he couldn't help but notice in the back of his mind that she looked so... pregnant. He had always seen Mrs. Lovett as some sort of little girl in a grown woman's body, though he realized it had more to do with her insufferable cheerfulness than with her general behavior. But now that she lay there like that, and there wasn't even a proper dress or a corset hiding her body from his eyes, only another, flimsier layer of fabric, and he could see more of her than he ever had, it was suddenly very obvious that she wasn't only a woman in the feminine sense of the word (something he hadn't always been really aware of in the past) but that she was, in fact, a very _pregnant_ woman. While he worked, he idly wondered whether there were more things that had been there for so long but had gone mostly unnoticed by him for a long time.

He had finished now what needed to be done in order to make her ready for a midwife or doctor to see her. Although this was the moment in which he should rush to fetch someone who could help her, to bring her back to her energetic self and make sure that she and, of course, the baby would be safe. But although he knew that he needed to get help, he found that his body was incapable of moving. His eyes were glued to her and as the time passed slowly but she still didn't wake up, he found himself taking her right hand in his own, squeezing it gently. Somehow, he sensed that the gesture would help her more than anything that any doctor could do for her.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

A few endless minutes later, Sweeney still couldn't find the strength to walk away from the baker and leave her, even if it was to fetch a doctor. He didn't even consider asking the midwife's help anymore; it seemed to him that this situation was very serious and should be handled by a person with knowledge that went further than Mrs. Lucas expertise when it came to to pregnancies.

Now that the baker was lying right in front of him, the dress that she always wore whenever he was around and that usually prevented him from seeing more of her than he should, was gone. He could admire her form, which was growing curvier every day if such a thing were possible, and even though he should do so, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, even though he _knew_ how grave the situation was. For the first time, he somewhat realized just how beautiful she was and it somehow felt as if he had to stay with her to make up for all the weeks – _months_ – that he had spent in her presence without ever seeing her natural beauty, without being actually aware of her in the first place.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't his real wife, for whom he longed so intensely, but that was perhaps a good thing. Lucy was dead but the baker still could be saved.

"Nellie," he whispered as he leant over the bed to look at her face. "Nellie, please."

He placed her right hand on her stomach, as if the child beneath her palm could give her strength. Sweeney's own hand reached for the baker's face, cupping her cheek while he moved his face closer to hers, whispering words of encouragement to her.

When their noses almost brushed, Nellie Lovett opened her eyes. A hoarse groan escaped her sore throat and immediately, Sweeney reached for the glass of water on her nightstand and placed it between her trembling lips.

The baker sighed once she had drunk the soothing water, but she seemed to be hardly aware of his presence. She turned around on the bed to bury her face into the pillow, hugging the soft item tightly.

Only a long moment later she realized that she wasn't as alone in her bedroom as she usually was.

"Mr. Todd?" she asked, her eyes focusing on him with obvious difficulty. "What are you..."

Suddenly, she gasped, as if she remembered something very important.

"The bodies!" she said, eyes widening in shock. "And the pies! Mr. T, I'm so sorry that the work isn't done yet, I'll immediately..."

She tried to get up from the bed, even though it was clear that she hardly had the strength to do so, and Mr. Todd stopped her before her arms and legs would fail her once again.

"Are you insane? You weren't well, you _fainted_, and now you talk about _working_?"

"Of course," she said, despair clear in her voice. "I have to do that work, you said so yourself! I know very well that those bodies have to disappear before someone finds them, and I have to show you that I'm..."

"That you're _what_?" he asked, wondering what had caused her to stop speaking; apparently, she had almost said something that she didn't want him to hear, and this intrigued him to the extent that he actually wanted to find out what she had been about to say.

"That I'm useful," she added quietly, refusing to look at him.

He stared at her for a long moment, horror washing over him as the implication of her words dawned on him.

"Mrs. Lovett," he said at last. "You are a most extraordinary woman. I admire you for all the things you did to help me. No one in his right mind will find you useless, and _I_ certainly don't."

"But," she whispered, as if he had just told her something very strange, something that was incredibly hard to understand, "when I told you about the child for the first time..."

Sweeney closed his eyes for a moment, remembering what he had said to her a few months ago, and how he had tried to make his threats clear to her. Suddenly, he felt sorry for her, because it seemed that she had lived in fear for him all this time, even though he had promised not to hurt her. Perhaps - probably - he should have made it more clear to her that his opinion of her had changed, that he acknowledged her loyalty for him now and that he had grown to know her well enough to realize that she supported him and that she wouldn't refuse to do anything he wanted her to if she couldn't help it.

"No," he said softly, "you've been doing all this for so long and you kept going on, even though you put yourself in danger by doing that. From now on, you won't see even one more corpse. I don't want you get yourself and the child get killed."

"But what about..." she whispered, and she didn't have to finish that sentence in order for him to understand what she was implying. His 'customers', his plans, his revenge...

Mr. Todd had admitted to himself already that there hadn't been any progress in that area and that there probably wouldn't be if everything remained the way it was. The Judge, or even the Beadle, hadn't come and he doubted that they would visit his tonsorial parlor in the near future if he would go on the way he was doing.

"We'll think of something else," he replied, silencing the baker before she could say more. "You just can't do that work any longer."

With those words, his demonic quest came to an end temporarily. Although it certainly disturbed him that he had to stop his current attempt to have vengeance – at least for the time being – it was very clear that there was no other way. He simply couldn't allow Mrs. Lovett to spend one more _second_ in the hellish basement of her house; he couldn't let her risk both her own safety and the wellness of the child, even though she was actually willing herself to do so – if only to prove to him that she could be what he wanted her to be. Sweeney would soon be confronted with the never ending urge to find another way to the Judge, but the look on the baker's face distracted him from thoughts of vengeance and death, if only for a moment. There was something enchanting about the way she stared at him, her eyes wide with gratitude and relief... He didn't want to meet her gaze too long, for the brightness of it was something that his hardened soul couldn't really endure seeing for longer than a short moment.

"I hope that was only the first time that you fainted," he said quickly, wanting to break the growing silence and to do something about that almost blinding look on her face.

"No, it was not," she said immediately. "It happened only every once in a while though, but I had to throw up at least once a day."

Mr. Todd stared at the baker, completely shocked by this latest revelation.

"You... you..." to his horror, he wasn't even able of completing an actual sentence.

"What did you expect?" she replied, her voice soft but firm. "I'm a pregnant woman. That alone is enough. But then there was the stench, the bodies, the blood..."

Sweeney was at a loss of words. Guilt hit him in a way of which he hadn't thought that he still could feel that particular emotion. This woman had been suffering for him, and he had had absolutely no idea of it. If he hadn't found her by accident, he might've never found out – or only when it really was too late.

"Does Mrs. Lucas know about this?" he managed to say at length.

"Of course not. She'd want to know if there is something that causes me to throw up or faint - she wouldn't leave me alone until she knows exactly what makes me feel so sick. And I can't really tell her the truth, can I?"

Sweeney shook his head, hardly believing what he was hearing. The answer she gave was so much like her and he admired her for it, but at the same time, he wondered if she couldn't see how _stupid_ her behavior had been. This wasn't only about her anymore; she was also responsible for the child she was pregnant with. But obviously, if it weren't for _him_, all this shouldn't have happened in the first place. The most ironic of it all was probably that it now mostly had seemed to be in vain. For the murders, and thus all their efforts to get rid of the evidence of them, had been almost useless thus far; he had 'practiced' killing more than enough; he had found out what was the best way to murder the Judge and the Beadle if they would visit his shop; which moves of the sharp blade would inflict the most horrible pain when cutting an always vulnerable throat – but the problem was that they didn't come and probably wouldn't, and all the murders suddenly seemed rather ridiculous now that he had found out how they had caused the baker to suffer and he realized that it hardly had caused any progress concerning his quest.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Part of him hated how he lately seemed to do nothing but apologizing to the woman he had hardly given a second thought until a few months ago, but the majority of his being knew that this was the least he could do after all the misery he had caused. But he sensed that she was very much aware of the fact that he wouldn't keep repeating it, that this was probably the last time that he would tell her that he felt sorry for the way he had treated her, and that she cherished the moment.

He stared at her, their gazes meeting once more, and he hoped that she could read in his eyes, or even in his soul, that he was truly sorry, even though he wouldn't keep reminding her.

"It doesn't matter, Mr. T," she said, smiling sadly, "I did it all for you."


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

A long moment after Nellie had said them, her words still lingered in the air. _I did it all for you_. She looked him straight in the eyes in a way that no one else dared to. Even though no one knew his dark secrets, most people intuitively didn't feel at ease in his presence. Mrs. Lovett however knew very well what he was capable of, what he did when no one else was watching, what he really was – a murderer, a _monster_... and yet, she looked at him without fear.

But this wasn't what caught his attention. There was something that was different than usual; or perhaps, it was the same as it always was, but he noticed it only now. The baker looked so horribly sad and lonely, so unlike the cheerful and happy woman she usually was – although he suddenly wasn't entirely sure that there had been days in which Nellie's face wasn't clouded by tiredness and pain. He had never paid attention to it, and it seemed unexpectedly strange that he couldn't even remember the way the woman who he shared a house with usually looked.

It was clear, even to him, that he was responsible for her current state; the only question was in what way he had caused her to look so miserable. Was it because he had demanded impossible things of her for too long, or because he didn't return the feelings that she harboured for him so desperately – or both? But he would never know the answer to that question; in order to find out, he would have to ask her about the depth of her feelings for him and if there was one conversation that he would never have, that was the one.

This was one of the moments in which he wished that Bill Jones had never told him that Mrs. Lovett was in love with him and had been for a very long time. The days in which he hadn't known about Nellie's feelings hadn't been easier, not at all, but even though he understood her now, his life had become more complicated because of them than it already was. The worries that bothered him usually to the point of madness were joined now by being afraid of doing things around Nellie that he shouldn't.

In the past, he hadn't minded when she looked sad or afraid, or even broken. He didn't even notice, didn't really look at her, because he simply didn't care. But now, he always had to be careful. One accidental brush of their hands, one word spoken too affectionately... he hated to think of what it would do to her, of what he would implicitly suggest. Even though he felt sorry for her, he could never be the man she wanted him to be. Against all odds, he had grown to care for her and he considered her to be his friend – the only one he had. But Lucy was the only woman for him and besides, he didn't think the man he had become could still love in the first place, let alone experience emotions with the intensity that Nellie needed and deserved.

But still, when she was staring at him as if looking for something that wasn't there, he knew that there was _something_ he could do. A small gesture was enough to make her feel better, just like the slightest touch of his wife's hand used to be able to erase most of his worries as if by magic. It was long ago that Lucy had done so for the last time, but he was rather sure that Mrs. Lovett, because of her apparent lack of experience with true love, wouldn't been able to tell the difference between a sincere touch and one that was only meant to ease his guilt and would probably be much clumsier than it could be, if only because he had almost forgotten how to touch someone affectionately.

Bracing himself inwardly, he reached for her face slowly, cupping her cheek with his right hand. She leaned into him almost immediately, sighing and closing her eyes, making it very obvious to him that she enjoyed the gesture. It was the first time that he touched her in a way like this, and it was going to be the last time. But still, when he caressed her skin, the knowledge that she was in love with him was suddenly overwhelming. Knowing what she felt for him was one thing, quite another was experiencing it like this, seeing how she actually reacted during such a moment. It made everything look so much more real; not just the woman herself, or the hand that was touching her, but truly _everything_, from the faster beating of his heart to the quickening rhythm of his breath. All of him was suddenly existing in a way of which he wasn't sure that it had done so before.

He had meant to withdraw his hand soon, allowing her to experience him like she wanted to for only a moment – he really had. But as the seconds passed quickly, he found that he couldn't pull away.

He wasn't really sure how any woman, let alone one as valuable and special as the baker, could love him. But she _did_, and it suddenly didn't seem to matter anymore why she did so or how it was possible. He might be able to understand that she had been in love with Benjamin Barker, but really, not the man he had become. How could _anyone _be unafraid of Sweeney Todd, let alone _love _him? But the way she reacted left no room for doubt. She did love him, and even though he would never understand it or feel something similar for her, he secretly couldn't help but appreciate it. Somehow, the fact that she was in love with him was more satisfying than killing for an entire day.

The way she behaved toward him made clear to him that Judge Turpin hadn't done what he had intended to do when he had banished Benjamin Barker for life. Technically, the barber had survived – he wasn't young anymore, let alone naive, and he had become an almost completely different person. But still, he was alive, even though the barber himself had doubted that for a long time. But just like the way Nellie reacted to him made everything suddenly look so real, as if life was more than a hellish nightmare in shades of gray and red, she reminded him that there was something else that Turpin hadn't taken away from him: his humanity. He was scarred, he had almost been broken, but still, he was alive, and he was more than the empty shell than he had thought himself to be for years. He could _feel, _and for the first time he realized what a tremendous gift this was. Feeling and understanding emotions had always been something so normal, something he didn't even think about. Only now that he had almost lost this most human characteristic, he realized how unbelievably lucky he was to still be able of experiencing emotions, even though he couldn't feel things as freely and easily as he once had done. But still, deep inside of him was still something that could feel and _live_, and he was regaining control of it, slowly but surely. To be reminded of this by Mrs. Lovett was, in spite of the way that it happened, almost... appealing. He had always thought that _Lucy_ would be the one who could mend and soothe him; he hadn't even considered that there was someone else who could do the same. But now he found out that Nellie wasn't the only one who was affected positively by what he was doing.

She was shivering and he presumed that it had something to do with the fact that he had cut her dress to pieces and that more of her skin was exposed to the chilly air than usual, the second dress that she was still wearing being obviously not meant to warm the body. He didn't want her to get cold, just like he didn't want her to know that he had seen her in her current state of undress. While he remained caressing her cheek with his right hand, he pulled a blanket over her with his left. She was completely lost because he was touching her and wasn't aware of the material at all.

After a long moment, when the fabric was covering her properly, he managed to pull his treacherous hand back at last, missing the warmth of her face immediately. Her huge eyes fluttered open, the surprise and delight in them obvious. Her breath had been eerily slow before, but her chest was heaving now and the blanket that he had just covered her with, did an awful job at hiding that. Curls that had escaped from their pins were splayed across the pillow, the reddish shade of them contrasting with the grayness of the material that once had been white. Every man would notice how beautiful she was, in that particular moment even more than usual, but Sweeney Todd didn't.

She remained looking at him intently, as if she had never really seen him before. It took him a long moment to realize that she _did_ see him for the first time – or at least, a certain part of him. He had torn his shirt to create some sort of wash cloths earlier, and the remains of it were now floating in the reddish water inside the bucket that was still standing next to her bed. He didn't have another shirt, which was the reason that he had come down to the bakehouse earlier that evening in the first place.

He realized it at the same time as she did. She had been looking into his eyes as if lost in them, but at the very moment that it dawned on him now vulnerable he was, feeling naked even though only his shirt and vest were missing, her gaze dropped lower, openly staring at his chest with admiration.

This made him feel very awkward, the strength of her gaze leaving him almost powerless. Suddenly he felt horribly self conscious, almost as if he was once again the younger version of himself who trembled if Lucy even looked at him, fearing that she wouldn't like him the way he liked her. But that was many years ago, and this was not his wife. But still...

"Beautiful," she muttered, managing to sit up.

Sweeney was too bewildered to hear what she said. But yet, he couldn't help but notice that the blanket that he had just covered her with slid off her body, making it once more horribly clear to him that her body wasn't covered as much as it should be. It was even more obvious when she was sitting upright, like she currently was. He tried to force himself to look away, but because of this he failed to see that the baker was moving closer to him. When he realized what she intended to do, it was too late already.

He shivered when her hand brushed against his skin, caressing his chest. But to his surprise, he wasn't disgusted when Mrs. Lovett touched him in a way only Lucy had ever done. There was only an unexplainable warmth that made it seem less important that he felt something that he only was supposed to experience when he had been alone with his actual wife.

The baker touched him carefully, exploring his pale skin with tenderness. Now it was his turn to close his eyes. Mrs. Lovett's caress was gentle but tempting, evoking feelings within him that she had never done before. The curious, seemingly innocent journey of her fingers on his skin affected him on a much deeper level than the knowledge that she was in love with him did. Indeed, this was _real_ in a way that Lucy hadn't been for more than fifteen years.

If he would've been able to keep his eyes open, he would've seen that Nellie almost drank in the shirtless sight of him, trying to memorize even the tiniest detail of his body, because she knew that she would never have a similar change again.

"Oh," she said after a moment, quickly withdrawing her hand. She probably thought that the sudden rise of his temperature was caused by anger. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have..."

Even though she hadn't really wanted to end what she had been doing, the baker was clearly happy. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone brightly, as if she was very grateful because of what just had happened, even though the unexpected moment had lasted even less than a minute.

It seemed to the barber that reacting to what she just had said would do more harm than good. He wanted her to feel sorry for what she had done, touching him as if that was the most normal thing to do, but at the same time, he did not want her to be sorry. He too had enjoyed her touch, even though he would never tell her that, and he didn't wish to blame her once more that wasn't really her fault. She _had_ taken almost unforgivable liberties with his person, but he was the one who hadn't stopped her and thus it was his fault just as much as it was hers. He simply had to make sure that it wouldn't happen again.

Although she was smiling at last, she was obviously still exhausted. Even though she had been unconscious for quite some time, she was still tired and needed to rest. Letting her go to sleep as quickly as possible was the best way to handle the situation, especially because he didn't have to talk to her in the near future that way.

With gentle movements, he made her lie down in her bed and even though she tried to fight it, she was asleep within mere seconds, a small smile still gracing her lips.

Although Sweeney's mind tended to wander back to the strange moment he just had shared with Mrs. Lovett, he knew there was another problem that he had to deal with. It was still a hellish mess in the bakehouse, and the baker simply couldn't go there as long as those corpses and other human remains lay scattered there. He wasn't afraid to start cleaning the basement however; he would do anything rather than having to think about what had just happened between his landlady and himself and what this could mean to both of them. Fortunately, removing corpses and cleaning blood stained floors seemed like the perfect way to prevent himself from thinking inappropriate things about Nellie Lovett.

* * *

_This chapter was a difficult one. I rewrote it almost entirely several times and I hope that the final result is worth the effort =)_


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Mrs. Lovett was reluctant to wake up fully. She had just had such a heavenly dream and she wanted to remain floating in that blissful slumber as long as she could. But after a few moments, real life was impossible to deny any longer.

Sighing, the baker sat up in bed and her hands went to the buttons of her nightgown automatically. To her bewilderment, her fingers met nothing but the skin covering her collarbone. She looked down, seeing no fabric except for the thin layer of the comfortable dress which replaced the corset now that she was pregnant, but that she usually never wore in bed. She was wearing part of her working clothes already, but... why? And where was her dress?

That was when she remembered what had happened several hours ago. Or at least, some of it. She could recall going to the bakehouse the day before, and waking up in her bed, with none other than Sweeney Todd leaning over her. But except from that, nothing. Those few memories only raised more questions instead of answering them. However, there was something more important than a few gasps in her memory. There was something that she _did_ remember very well. Not only had the barber been at her side when she woke; he had _caressed_ her voluntarily. And even though the touch was as innocent as was possible since he had simply cupped her cheek with his hand, stroking it gently with his thumb, the moment had been extremely enjoyable. And as if that hadn't been overwhelming enough yet, he hadn't punished her impulsive reaction; no, he had _allowed_ her to touch him as well, he hadn't stopped her when she had carefully explored the pale skin and the hard, underlying muscles of his chest.

The baker sighed once more, closing her eyes as she smiled. So it hadn't been a dream after all. She remembered every detail of it; every single second had been stored safely in her memory. How amazing it had been, how impossibly enjoyable, to feel his fingers against her skin, and how wonderful it had been to touch him_._ No matter how forbidden and dangerous it had always seemed, she had done it. And it hadn't been a simple touch, oh no, but a slow, almost sensual caresses. As if that wasn't enough yet, she had _seen _him. She had no idea why he hadn't been wearing his vest or even his shirt, but she didn't mind – not at all.

But now she was alone once more and she had no idea where the barber was or why he had behaved like he had that night in the first place. He had probably fled her room, feeling ashamed for what he had done. The baker couldn't suppress an unladylike snort as she imagined Mr. Todd sitting somewhere in his barber shop now, sulking because he had touched her in a way he was only 'supposed' to caress his wife.

Mrs. Lovett however didn't really care about that. It only made sense if the barber was horrified after what he had done – what they had done. She didn't expected differently of him. The fact that he _had _acted like she had wanted him to for so long was something that did actually matter; it was something new and exciting, even though she had fantasized about it for the greater part of her life.

She wanted to remain lying in the comfortable bed, replaying the memories of the very recent past in her head, but there was a business to run and children – even though they were not her own – to look after.

Mrs. Lovett got out of bed, intending to take her dress from her wardrobe. But to her bewilderment, it wasn't there, nor was it on her bed. She did find a bucket however, which was filled with reddish water and a few rags. Obviously, Mr. Todd had something to do with that; she could remember dozens of times in which the bucket had served a similar purpose, but no memory existed of cleaning her body patiently last night. She didn't dare thinking of Sweeney moving the wet rags over her arms and face, freeing her skin from the blood of his victims, or why he had bothered to do so in the first place. She was also rather sure that the barber knew exactly where her dress was, but she couldn't ask him; he had disappeared once again and she couldn't go looking for him now that she had to do her usual work. So she quickly took another dress from her wardrobe, determined to confront the barber about the missing one later.

She didn't know exactly what it was supposed to mean that Mr. Todd didn't want her to touch or see those corpses anymore, but there were a lot of pies that she had baked during the previous night, before she had fainted, that needed to be served.

Nellie headed for the bakehouse, inwardly bracing herself for the stench and gore that was awaiting her there and forcing herself to remain calm so the barber wouldn't have to help her once more. But before she could open the two heavy doors, someone grabbed her arm.

"Don't go there Mum," Toby said sternly, his bright eyes looking up to meet hers.

"Why not?" she asked, hoping to sound more casual than she felt. Why did he not want her to go there? Had he found out?

"Mr. Todd said that you shouldn't walk those stairs now that you are pregnant," the young boy said firmly, looking at her expanded belly instead of her face, as if he still couldn't believe that a new, little person was in there who would become some sort of sibling for him. Luckily the boy had reacted well to the news when she had told him about her pregnancy; he seemed to accept that everything would remain the way it was for him, only that there would be a new addition to their household.

Mrs. Lovett calmed somewhat when Toby didn't seem to be aware of the exact nature of the basement, but still she didn't understand why Mr. Todd didn't want her to enter the bakehouse, let alone why he had told Toby, a boy who he openly disliked, to prevent her from doing so.

But then there was something even stranger, and that captured her attention as well.

"It's so _quiet_," she said, listening carefully. "I don't hear the customers."

"Well," Toby said carefully, but before he could say more, Mrs. Lovett rushed towards the pie shop, only to find it empty except for Rose and Mary, the two new apprentices, who were cleaning tables.

"Where is everyone?" the baker whispered, "what happened?"

"I meant to tell you earlier Mum," Toby said quickly. "Half an hour ago, we ran out of pies and Mr. Todd forbade us to go into the bakehouse like we wanted to, to bake new pies ourselves. Rose said that she thought she could do that. But Mr. Todd wouldn't let us, and instead of telling you or helping us, he told us to close the shop. I argued with him, I did, but he made us close the shop without telling you."

The boy stared at her, obviously somewhat fearing her reaction, but even though her mouth opened, Mrs. Lovett found that she had nothing to say. Toby doubtlessly expected her to be angry with Mr. Todd because he had forced them to close the shop, but she was very glad that the barber had used his brain better than she had. He had prevented a potential disaster by making sure that the three children wouldn't enter the basement, where the bodies of his victims were still rotting. The worst of it all was that she hadn't even _realized_ that it could happen; she hadn't been aware of the fact that the shop had been open for so long already that they had run out of all the pies that she had prepared the day before. As long as she could remember, there wasn't a single day when she had overslept, whether she actually expected customers or not.

But just as she was about to explain to the boy that it was alright and that he didn't have to worry about anything, Mrs. Lucas entered the shop, greeting her daughters cheerfully but looking surprised when she saw how empty the usually crowded pie shop was.

"Good morning Nellie," the midwife said, before greeting Toby as well. The young boy sensed that his presence wasn't required at that moment and quickly went back to work.

"You look pale, deary," Mrs. Lucas said the second that the boy was gone, as if she had observed this the moment that she had seen the baker but didn't want to say something about it as long as Toby was around. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Mrs. Lovett lied quickly. "Just a bit tired."

"You should rest more; I already told you that dozens of times," the midwife said, her playful voice carrying a serious undertone. "But there is something else we need to discuss."

The baker's body involuntarily froze. Even though she was rather sure that neither the three apprentices or Mrs. Lucas could find out about the horrible secret of Mr. Todd and herself, she always feared that they would somehow figure it all out.

"I'm sure that this already so, but I need to remind you that it is of great importance that there is always someone close to you. I don't expect the baby to be born in the very near future, but one can never be sure of such things. I can't always be around and if something happens when I'm not here, there has to be someone who can go fetch me. Since your husband is the one who is with you at night, he is the person who is most suitable to do this. He has to notice that you are going into labor before you do, so to speak. When the moment is there, every minute counts and even seconds can be of great importance."

Nellie nodded, realizing that the midwife was right. There _had_ to be someone who could go to alert Mrs. Lucas if the baby would be born during those rare hours that the midwife wasn't around. But of course, she knew very well that Mr. Todd's cooperation in this wasn't as certain as Cathy Lucas was presuming. The mere _thought_ of Sweeney staying with her during the night... it was quite unbelievable that he was willing to endure her company in the evenings so they could read together to the child, but that was something completely different. Toby could en would do the same thing, if only she asked him – any family member or friend would do so. It was not that she had any left, but that wasn't the point. There was only one person who was supposed to carry out the task that Mrs. Lucas had just mentioned, but the problem was obviously that Sweeney was probably the last person on earth who was willing to do that.

But Cathy couldn't know that; she was spending so much time in the house in Fleet Street already without recognizing Mr. Todd or herself as persons who she had known one and a half decade ago, in very different circumstances. Obviously, Mrs. Lucas had known many, many families during the years and couldn't possibly remember any of them, but the baker feared often that she would find out what was going on and that the people she was dealing with daily weren't exactly who they pretended to be. Nellie didn't want to think of the consequences of both the possibility that Sweeney would know it when the midwife did, or later – too late. Both options were truly dreadful. It wasn't hard to guess after all what Sweeney would do to prevent the midwife from reporting him, even though the baker wasn't entirely sure that Cathy would actually betray them. Mr. Todd however wouldn't share this optimism.

And thus, even when the midwife suggested something completely impossible like she was doing at that moment, Nellie pretended as if nothing was wrong. She had to act as normally as she could after all, if only to prevent Mrs. Lucas from wondering about Sweeney and her more than was necessary. The problem however was that she feared the barber's reaction to what she was going to have to ask him almost just as much as the midwife's suspicion.


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Mrs. Lovett began to see why Mr. Todd didn't exactly like it when she was fussing over him. Of course, he needed to be reminded of the fact that he had to sleep, eat and do other things of which he insisted that he could live without. But now that both Mrs. Lucas and her apprentices were urging her to eat and drink enough and, mostly, _rest_, the baker was becoming rather annoyed. She was pregnant, not _ill_, and that's what she told the well meaning but meddling woman and children. But yet, they hardly left her alone during the day. Even when Mrs. Lucas had gone home, saying that it was no use to stay if she wasn't being listened to anyway, the three apprentices had demanded all of her attention.

Although she usually loved to spend time with them, she couldn't wait to be alone – or at least, without them. When she was teaching Toby, Mary and Rose everything that she knew about running a pie shop, and when she answered their almost endless amount of questions, her mind was not really there. But she forced herself to go on; not only did she want to prevent herself from hurting the three of them by acting as if she didn't really pay attention to them, she also needed to make sure that they learned as much as she could possibly teach them. The baker hated to think of it, but with Mrs. Lucas' insistence she began to accept somewhat that there _would_ come a day that she couldn't really be in the pie shop anymore for more than a few moments now that she was about to be a mother.

The cause of the baker's impatience and absentmindedness was Sweeney Todd. She hadn't seen him all day and this bothered her greatly. He was the only one who was on her mind, even though the unexpected quiet day was the perfect opportunity to spend some more time with the three youths. But the barber was now the only one who she was thinking about and even though she talked and smiled, she could only analyze what had happened the previous night and wonder why she hadn't seen the barber for so long.

Mrs. Lovett wished that she could actually benefit from the absence of all the customers now by teaching the apprentices, so they would be able to work without her supervision once the baker herself had to stop doing all her regular work. But even as she answered the questions of the young people and gave them advice, she was thinking about Mr. Todd.

During the past few weeks, the barber had come downstairs more and more often. Although he always had the most likely excuses to come to her shop, Mrs. Lovett just _knew_ that he wasn't there to look for the Judge or whatever reason he claimed – no, he was there for _her_. She had tried not to get used to it, not to enjoy it in the first place, because she was rather sure that the barber had a very good reason for keeping an eye on her, one that she probably didn't like. But yet, she was missing his attention terribly.

It had been six o'clock already before she could even begin cooking dinner and even when she was preparing the meal, she had been distracted to the extent that she had almost ruined the vegetables, first by chopping them up into too little pieces and then by almost burning them. She just _had _to speak to Mr. Todd and find out what was going on before she could relax somewhat.

Naturally, she wasn't really there when she served and ate the meal, and if the youths commented on the lack of quality of the dinner, she was hardly aware of it. She only stared at the door of her parlor while bringing spoonful after spoonful of food to her mouth without tasting it, expecting and hoping to see Mr. Todd appear there.

Only after dinner, when Toby, Rose and Mary were playing a card game, the baker decided to take matters in her own hand. If Sweeney wasn't coming to her, she was going to him now that she had the chance to do so without disturbance at last.

When she was sure that the three teenagers were too engrossed in the game to pay any attention to her, she sneaked out of the parlor. It was not that she deliberately got out without them noticing; it was just that she wasn't ready for any question about her whereabouts. Even _she_ didn't really know why she went looking for Sweeney. She certainly _wanted_ to see him, but she had made a point lately of not being around him too much, and it certainly had improved their relationship – last night was the best example. The barber didn't like her fussing over him, something which she always tended to do whenever he was around, and now that she was pregnant, she somewhat began to understand him. Of course, their situations couldn't really be compared, but she had figured out that when there was something different about a person, this didn't necessarily mean that there was something wrong with her or him.

Perhaps, his strange moods and brooding were something that she shouldn't worry about too much, even though Benjamin had always been so talkative and _alive_. She began to accept these new characteristics of him - they just belonged to the man who he had become – especially now that he had proven to her that he knew very well that she actually existed, in spite of those countless moments in which he hardly seemed to be aware of her at all.

But even though she knew that he doubtlessly didn't want her to worry about him, let alone go looking for him, she headed for his barber shop, hoping that he was there and that she could assure herself that he was alright. This part of the house was the most logical choice; for months, he had been nowhere except for in the very room she was going to.

However, his room was locked and there was no reaction when she knocked loudly on the door. She peeked through the little window, but she didn't see him. It seemed that the barber had disappeared once more.

Thoroughly disappointed by this and waves of sickening worry washing over her, she used her own key to open the door and, not knowing what else to do, she collapsed in his barber chair.

It made her feel awkward not to know where he was, and she wondered if he really had disappeared once again completely without telling her about it. She hadn't forgotten how he had left their house so recently, only to come back at night, pretending that nothing had happened. He still hadn't told her what he had done that day but she knew that something important had taken place. His behavior had changed drastically and although it certainly had done so in a way that she liked, she hated the fact that she didn't know what had happened to him. And now, he was gone once more, and she had no idea where he was and how long it would take him to come back – if he would return in the first place.

Realizing that she shouldn't go on thinking like this, she left the room, knowing that she had to do something in order not to worry too much about the absence of the barber. It seemed that there was nothing she could do to bring him back and that she would only torment herself by thinking about him.

There was only one kind of work to do at that very moment and although she didn't like the idea of going back to the bakehouse because of what had happened there the previous night, it was the only sensible thing to do. The horrors that could be found there would hopefully be enough to prevent herself from thinking of Mr. Todd, wondering if his disappearance had anything to do with her, and if it didn't, then _why_ he had left without telling her.

In the past, she had never liked going to the basement when all those corpses were lying there, but now that her pregnant body really couldn't stand the gore and blood anymore, she had become to fear the dark and disgusting place. She didn't want to think of what would've happened if Mr. Todd hadn't happen to come down the night before. And now that he had gone, she was even less tempted to go to the bake house, but she knew that she had to go there at least one more time to get rid of the remaining bodies – just burning them would do – and to remove the last evidence of the crimes that she and the barber had committed.

She was very glad that the barber had said that she didn't have to cut up bodies anymore, although she did worry about what this would mean for the business of both Mr. Todd and herself. But that was something she would consider later – hopefully, together with the barber. For now, she had to make sure that she could work there safely in the future. The last bone had to be destroyed and the last drop of blood had to be cleaned. The next time she would be in the basement, she didn't want there to be anything that would remind her of the hellish place that it now still was.

Bracing herself inwardly, she entered the bake house, covering her mouth and nose with her gloved hands, hoping that this would prevent her from having to throw up because of the awful smell, or worse.

When she halfway the stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks. Not only did Sweeney Todd turned out to be there, looking up at her as if it was for him the most normal thing to be in the basement, but she also hardly recognized her own bakehouse.

The entire space was almost completely empty and clean, and she couldn't remember the last time it had been like that, even before her meat pie emporium had expanded the way it had during the past few months. Shocked as she was, she had lowered the hands that had protected her nose and mouth. As she took in a deep breath of air, intuitively hoping to calm that way, her senses weren't assaulted by the disgusting smell that usually poisoned the area. The air wasn't pleasant, of course not, for the sewer was where it had always been and the memory of what once had been there was lay still heavily in the air. But yet, she could _breathe_ now, and it seemed that there was at last some oxygen in the air.

"Mr. T!" she gasped, completely surprised by what she saw. "What is this supposed to mean?!"

No matter how glad she was to see that the situation in the basement had improved immensely, she couldn't help but feel suspicious towards the one who seemingly had performed this enormous task all by himself. However, it was a relief that Sweeney hadn't disappeared at all and had apparently been in the bakehouse all day, doing the work that she had been dreading to do.

"There will soon be a day that you really have to sit down and let the children do your work," Mr. Todd said matter-of-factly, his voice echoing in the large room even though he was standing rather far away from her. "Toby and Mrs. Lucas' daughters can come down here now to bake the pies. You only will have to look for other... ingredients."

They had spoken about it before, but only now that she saw the basement like this, she realized the full implications of this latest development. It had often seemed to her that his quest for vengeance was the only thing that kept Mr. Todd going. And now, he was going to give it up – or at least, it really seemed that he was making an end to his current attempt to murder the man who had destroyed his family. But why? It couldn't be simply because of _her_, could it?

"But what are you now going to do about..."

"He won't come," the barber said, his voice suddenly quiet. "I feel it."

He didn't explain this statement and although Mrs. Lovett wasn't exactly sure how he could 'feel' that Turpin wasn't going to be lured into the so devilishly developed trap, she knew better than to ask.

But of course, she was delighted that the torturous hours of cutting up human bodies had come to an end. It almost seemed too good to be true, but so did more things in her life currently.

"Thank you."

She spoke softly and she thought that he couldn't hear those two words, that they were lost in the large space that contained nothing except for an oil lamp, a few working tables, the oven and the tools that he had used to clean, but as he nodded curtly, it was clear that he had heard her and accepted her gratitude.

"It's late," he said as he walked towards her. "You should go to sleep."

She wanted to object, since the evening had only just begun and he was not supposed to be the one who worried about her, but she realized he was right. Now that she was pregnant, she simply couldn't work as much and long as she used to do. Besides, she _was_ tired, even though she had accidentally slept in that morning.

He walked towards the stairs on which she was still standing. As he did so, he stepped into the center of the flickering light that the oil lamp was producing, to pick up the only source of light. Only then she could see him properly and thus she only saw at that moment that he was covered in blood from head to toe.

"Mr. Todd!" she shrieked, shocked by this display. Of course, she had seen plenty of blood before, but whether it was on his body, on or own or on the furniture and floor of his tonsorial parlor, she had never really gotten used to it. It was especially strange to see him so demon like because he seemed to be rather calm, as if it wasn't only the basement that was neat and tidy now; it almost seemed as if the work in the bakehouse hadn't only exhausted his body, but had relaxed his mind as well.

He just shrugged, as if it was only normal to be covered in so much blood, and unlike before, Mrs. Lovett understood that he was communicating to her this way without using any words: she realized that he didn't want her to comment on his current state. In the past she would've fussed endlessly over the tormented barber and even though the urge was still there, quite strongly in fact, she resisted it.

She wanted to tell him that she would get clean clothes for him, and water and soap so he could wash himself, but once again she forbade herself to do so, because the barber knew very well that she was having those clothes and means to clean himself and that she would get them for him as quickly as she could – she had done so for months and they both knew by now that her pregnancy didn't prevent her from helping him in any way.

He just nodded to her, as if he could actually read her thoughts, and gestured her to get back to the parlor. Together, they wordlessly made their way upstairs, out of the dark space that had been Mrs. Lovett's personal hell for months.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Mrs. Lovett followed Mr. Todd closely when they climbed the stairs, enjoying the fact that she was close to him, even though they were simply moving to another part of the house. She sighed inwardly because of her own horrible tendency to like _everything_ that allowed her to be close to him, even if it was something silly like this. At the same time, she noticed that he didn't walk as quickly as he usually did and she wondered the reason of this. Of course, she couldn't rush upstairs like she had always done now that she was pregnant, both because she didn't want to do anything that was potentially harmful for the baby and because it was physically simply _impossible_. But he... Mr. Todd didn't have to carry a child in his belly like she did and she was sure that the cleaning of the bakehouse hadn't exhausted him _that_ much, even though it seemed that he had been working in the basement _all day. _But her Mr. Todd was strong, he could handle that that kind of things easily. It made her feel even more proud of him than she already was, and, something that was less pleasant, it only reminded her of how much she admired him, respected him, _loved_ him. But the only reason that he was walking slower than usual that she could think of, was that he did so because of _her_ and that was an encouraging thought indeed.

The barber opened the heavy doors of the bakehouse, gesturing her to enter the small hallway of her house first. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at her, but he didn't have to. She knew him well enough now to realize how much this small gesture meant. How she loved this tormented man, especially now that the days in which he had threatened her and had demanded too much of her seemed to be over.

Mrs. Lovett was lost in thought even as she and the barber headed for a small storage room where she kept the clean clothes and the water and soap he would need to make himself look like he just hadn't murdered at least five people. It was the place that she had offered him to use for that purpose many months ago, but he had never accepted it, saying that his barber shop was good enough for that and that he "didn't want to bother" her. It was his way of saying that he´d rather be in his cold room all day, where he hardly had any comfort and privacy because of the never ending stream of customers, than coming downstairs into the part of the house where she spent a lot of time as well. She presumed that the thought of seeing her there cleaning herself as well, after another long night of baking pies out of human flesh, was to him almost just as unpleasant as imaging all the horrible things the Judge doubtlessly had done to Lucy.

But now, they were walking towards the small room together and even though the baker knew better than to expect that Mr. Todd would allow her to stay there while he washed himself and changed his clothes (but oh, how she would _love _to witness that), it meant very much to her that he hadn't ordered her to leave in the first place. It felt like she was floating instead of walking right next to the barber.

He was still holding the oil lamp in his right hand, having taken it out of the bakehouse to illuminate their way back to the more pleasant and lighter areas of the building, and the baker mused whether it was perhaps a special and meaningful sign that Sweeney was holding the lamp, as if he would actually bring the light in her life that she needed.

Until the last moment, she thus wasn't aware of the laughter of the three children coming from her parlor, and the fact that this particular room of her house and the hallway she and the blood covered barber were currently in, were separated by nothing but a thin wall and a door that was standing wide open at that very moment.

Without thinking, the baker grabbed the hem of Sweeney´s blood stained shirt as soon as she realized what was almost going to happen, pulling him back from the light that reached the hallway from the parlor, hoping with her entire being that Toby and the two girls hadn't seen him.

The barber lost his balance after he had been pulled backwards abruptly. He staggered backwards, partly against the wall, and partly against the baker herself.

Mrs. Lovett tensed as she felt Mr. Todd´s frame against her own - not because that was the moment that she found out that the blood on his clothing hadn't dried yet and was staining her skin and dress as well, and not even because the three children that she had grown to love were mere yards away, on the verge of discovering the blood covered man with whom they lived in the same building. She knew that Mary and Rose didn't like the barber, didn't trust him; Toby had doubtlessly shared his doubts about the intentions of the mysterious man with them. They suspected something, but as long as they couldn't prove it, Mrs. Lovett didn't really worry. But now that she, in a moment of carelessness and daydreams, had failed to keep the children and Mr. Todd as far from away from each other as was humanly possible within a three storey building, the consequences could be too horrible to even consider.

But no, the reason that she froze was that she suddenly found herself very close to the barber and even though she _knew_ that there were things that were much more urgent now, she couldn't help but marvel at the fact that she felt the heat radiate from his body and his muscles tense; his dark hair actually tickled her skin.

"What was that?" Mary asked after the second of silence that had followed when Mr. Todd had crashed against the wooden wall.

"I didn't hear anything," her sister said, and Mrs. Lovett relaxed a little. Surely they would continue their game of cards now that Rose, the oldest of the three and thus the one the others listened too – usually – had spoken.

"I heard it too," Toby then said, causing the baker´s heart to skip a beat. "It sounded like there fell something in the hallway – or _someone_."

Even though Mr. Todd was still deliciously close to her, she began to understand very quickly now that no matter how tempting this was, there were more urgent things to worry about.

"Mum, is that you?"

Once again, Toby was the one who spoke. Even though she wanted to say that it was her indeed, and that everything was alright and that they should go on with whatever they were doing, the baker found that she couldn't do so. Fear overwhelmed her unexpectedly as the realization of the danger of the game she had been playing all those months mercilessly crashed down on her. How had she ever thought that she could do this, keeping both innocent children and a broken man, a _murderer_, inside her house without the young people ever finding out about the barber´s crimes, no matter how justified those were? She could imagine it now, how the three children looked at each other, Mary shrugging but the youngest ones knowing that they had heard something, how they would stand up, walk towards the door carefully, looking into the hallway and see...

"There's someone there, and if it would be Mrs. Lovett, she would've said so." It was Rose this time who spoke, and even though the baker was proud of the logic reasoning of the young girl, she cursed the child now for being smart enough to come to a conclusion like she just had.

And yes, as if they wanted to make her own horror scenario came true, she heard the sound of chairs that were pushed back, hushed whispers, and then three pair of foots that found their way towards the open door.

The baker wanted to calm them, walk into the parlor to say that everything was alright, she wanted to do everything if only they wouldn't see Mr. Todd and her, but she found that she couldn't move, couldn't speak, fear for once stronger than her, and she knew that even if she _could_ communicate with them, they would feel, they would _know_, they would be able to tell by the sound of her voice that she was lying, that there _was _something wrong...

And then, the man who it was all about but about whom she had, strangely enough, forgotten in that one moment of absolute panic, pulled her back into the hallway, shielding the light of the oil lamp with his own body. The movement was firm but gentle, as if he still thought of her precious physical state in that very moment and he´d rather be found out than harming her and her child in any way.

She didn't see where she was going, both because of the lack of light and the fear that overloaded her senses, and she highly doubted that Mr. Todd knew where he was heading for because he hardly came to this part of the house, her personal domain, especially not in such a hurry.

But only a few seconds later, even though it seemed so much longer than that, the barber pulled her into a dark room and locked the door firmly behind them. She vaguely saw how he placed the lamp on the floor and how he leaned back against the door, the light of the flame showing the look of relief on his face.

They stood there, staring at each other, waiting for what was to come.

"There´s no one here," Mary said a second later, and once again the baker could imagine the girl, standing there in front of the other two with a candle in her hand, scanning every inch of the hallway. The sound of her voice made it clear to Toby and Rose that it was no use to argue. "It must've been our imagination."

Even in the situation, Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but feel pride, not only for the young boy, but for the older girls as well. They too were so loyal to her, even though they still had a mother and she was in fact nothing but their boss. In spite of their age, they were responsible and brave, and although Mary had been the one who had initially claimed that there was nothing in the hallway in the first place, she didn't remind the others of that.

Together, the barker and the barber listened to the retreating footsteps and the casual conversation that began quickly once the game that they had been playing was continued.

Mrs. Lovett sighed deeply, her body slowly relaxing at last, and she slumped down, her back sliding against the rough material of the door. Right next to her, Mr. Todd did exactly the same and at the exact same moment, they turned their heads to look at each other.

"That was close," Mr. Todd muttered. His voice was blank, but she could read in his eyes that he too had been afraid of the encounter that had almost taken place.

"It was," she whispered, still finding it hard to believe that their thoughtless little stroll through the house hadn't ended more dramatically than this.

"I... I'm sorry," she added, realizing again that this had been her fault; she should've realized earlier that the three young people weren't as asleep right after dinner as they usually were when she or the barber emerged from either the bakehouse or the barber shop, when the darkness of the night hid the stains of blood on their skin and clothing.

He didn't reply. Instead, he reached for her hand, squeezing it lightly. It was better than anything he could've said.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

For a long moment, Mr. Todd just sat there, on the floor of the room that he had pulled the baker into almost blindly, realizing how lucky they had been that none of the baker's apprentices had seen them, and that the baker had pulled him out of their view in the first place.

Only after a few long minutes, he realized that he was still holding her hand. Carefully but firmly, he pulled it back, relieved when she didn't visibly react. She just sat there, next to him, staring off into space.

When they weren't touching any longer, the shock began to fade and it was clear that they couldn't stay like this. He had to change his clothes and wash himself before a similar thing would happen, and most of all, a pregnant woman such as Mrs. Lovett shouldn't sit on the hard floor like she currently was.

He stood up, and when she didn't do the same thing, he extended his hand to her. She took it only after a long moment, making it clear to him that she had been lost in thought. She too had doubtlessly been shocked, and perhaps even scared, by just what happened. It wasn't good for her; he remembered how Mrs. Lucas had lectured again and again, both to Mrs. Lovett and, in a long lost past, to his own wife that pregnant women shouldn't endure stressful situations under any circumstances. However, the past few months had been nothing _but_ stressful, and that it was mostly his fault.

As she took his hand at last, he pulled her up. His arm trembled as he did so; not like before because it was so strange and yet somewhat pleasant to touch her, and not because the recent event was still troubling him as much as it had done minutes ago. No, his body was simply exhausted, which was a good thing. It meant that he was tired, and that he probably wouldn't have much trouble sleeping that night, something which was rare.

She blinked a few times, as if having to retreat from whatever place that her mind had taken her, but then she looked once more every inch the Nellie Lovett he knew.

"You stay here," she said firmly, her eyes daring him to do otherwise. "You won't come out until you look like you haven't even_ seen_ a single drop of blood in your entire life.

She quickly took a jacket from her wardrobe and put it on, thus hiding any blood that might've stained her dress when he had fallen against her only minutes earlier. As she did so, she headed for the door, unlocking it, and then she was gone, leaving a confused Sweeney Todd behind.

Seconds later, he heard her talk to the three apprentices in the parlor, ensuring them that everything was alright and that whatever they heard must've been only in their imagination indeed.

She left them as well but he couldn't hear where she went to. Instead, he studied the room he was currently in. With the help of the light of the oil lamp, he recognized it immediately. It was her bedroom, and he wondered why this room of all places had to be the one that had been the best to hide in for the suspicious eyes of the three teenagers.

The bucket with reddish water and the rags that once had been either her dress or his shirt, where still lying beneath her bed.

He felt horribly out of place and self conscious, standing in the middle of her bedroom all by himself, wondering what the baker was doing now anyway. Sensing that he was wasting his time doing nothing, he decided that he should clean himself. Hadn't she said herself that he wasn't supposed to leave this room before even the last evidence of what he had done that day was gone? He didn't know how literally he was supposed to take that, but he did see that he had to get rid of all the stains that were both on his clothes and skin. And not only blood, he thought. There were bits, parts and pieces of things there that he preferred not to think about. It was unbelievable, the amount of gore he had been confronted with when he had cleaned the basement. His admiration for the baker who had endured all that, even until very recently, had grown even more.

He felt less and less at ease as he was simply standing there with the evidence of his crimes all over his body. Mrs. Lovett still hadn't returned and although he didn't have any clean clothes, he supposed that removing the blood on his arms and face alone would take quite some time. The earlier he started, the sooner it would be done.

He unbuttoned his vest, shivering as the cold air reached his body and the bloody fabric slid down his skin. Just like he had thought, the blood had found its way to his skin. Most of the stains had been there for many, many hours. A mere bit of water wouldn't solve that problem.

Wanting the process he had grown to hate more and more to be over as quickly as possible, he took off his shirt as well and threw it on the floor seemingly carelessly, but in such a way that the fabric wouldn't cause any red stains on the floor of the baker's bedroom.

Looking around once more, as if that would make her come back earlier, he wondered once again what Mrs. Lovett was doing. He could certainly use some soap and plenty of fresh water. He had suspected that the baker would bring that for him; it was not that he didn't want to get it himself, but just like she had said, he really shouldn't leave her bedroom as long as the three youngsters were around.

He did remember the items that he had temporarily stored in the baker's room. The water in the old bucket and the remains of the material that once had been a dress and a shirt looked even more miserable than it had done the previous day, but until Mrs. Lovett returned – and he didn't actually know when she would do so – he didn't really have a choice.

Luckily, there were still a few parts of the shirt that he had used the night before that weren't reduced to bloody rags yet. He wet them in the disgustingly looking water and began to rub the skin of his left arm with it fiercely, grunting with annoyance as the blood didn't disappear like he had hoped. If possible, it only seemed to make matters worse.

As he was rubbing his skin in vain, he couldn't help but recall how he had cleaned the baker's body in a similar way very recently. Back then, he hadn't given it much thought, for he had been too worried about her health to think about what he was actually doing. Only now he realized fully how close he had been to her, that he had seen things of her that only her late husband had. And yet, that wasn't what bothered him most. He had sworn that there would be no one for him but his Lucy, and now that she was gone, there wouldn't be anyone else, simply because he couldn't love or even care for any other woman. Or rather, that was what he had thought for a long time. Although he was entirely sure that he did not _love_ Mrs. Lovett, he cared for her now, in his own, hidden way that his heart somehow still was capable of – something that surprised him as well. It was probably a good thing that she had been unconscious when he had cleaned her; he didn't know how else they would have to face each other in the future, knowing of her feelings for him and the fact that he had seen and touched her the way he had.

When the door was pushed open again – Sweeney realized to his shock that he hadn't even looked it after Mrs. Lovett had disappeared so suddenly, and that it was a very, very stupid thing to do – the barber turned around quickly, scanning the area around him. Even though he wasn't wearing the blood covered shirt and vest anymore, they were currently lying at his feet and as if that wasn't suspicious enough yet, there was still the blood on his pale skin.

The person that entered the room however luckily wasn't any of the three people that he and the baker had been avoiding with so much difficulty only minutes ago. It was Mrs. Lovett herself, carrying a large bucket of steaming water with her. Inwardly, he cursed, hating that she had dragged the heavy thing to her bedroom – hadn't he _told_ her not to demand too much of her body?

But that wasn't what worried him most. She looked at him, _stared_ at him, her eyes widening. He looked down, than actually blushing slightly as he realized what she was seeing - she wasn't staring because of the _blood_ that stained his skin. It was because she saw him for the second time within twenty four hour without all the protective fabric of his clothing around him.

Her mouth fell open and she gasped for air, her eyes still glued to his chest. It would've been amusing, perhaps, if he didn't feel so horribly vulnerable beneath her gaze, as if it wasn't only his vest and shirt that were on the floor. But was worse was that the bucket was slipping slowly from her hands, as if she had been so shocked to see him like this that her hands failed to hold the grips any longer.

Doing the only thing that could prevent the water from splashing all over her bedroom floor, he rushed to her side, taking the handles of the heavy bucket in his own hands just before the entire thing and its content crashed down.

"Silly woman!" he snarled, but it was more worry and embarrassment than actual anger that made him act so impatiently.

This luckily was enough to bring her out of the rather terrifying state she had just been in. He placed the bucket safely on the floor, but when he had done so, the baker had disappeared once more.

This time she returned quickly however, with a huge pile of towels and clean clothes for him in her arms.

"Thank you," he muttered when she placed all of it on the bed. Even though his voice was soft, he meant the two words – once again he realized that he would be _nothing_ without her. Practical as always, she was, even when pregnant.

He had expected her to leave, probably not after having cast one more, smoldering glance at him, one that even he couldn't miss. He wasn't really comfortable with the thought of having to clean himself and changing his clothes in her _bedroom_ when she was gone, but it was not that he had another option.

But instead of giving him the privacy he desired, she pulled the bucket with water closer to where he was standing. He wanted to scowl at her for straining herself like that, but the words died on his lips when she reached for a washcloth and wet it in the still steaming water.

_Surely_ she wasn't going to do what she seemed to intend now, or was she?

"Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney tried weakly, "I presume I can use your room for ten minutes so that I can wash and change, and when I'm gone you can come back to..."

"Don't even think about it," she said, clearly suppressing a more sarcastic reaction. "Don't think that I underestimate you Mr. T, but even _you_ can't reach for the blood that's on your back."

The barber hissed as he realized what she was implying. He hadn't thought of _that_, but she couldn't really mean to...

But when he looked at her, it was clear that she could and that she _would_. And even though it was obvious to him now that he couldn't wash some parts of his body without her help this time, he _really_ didn't want her to... Not because he didn't _want_ her to, but...

However, the look in her eyes was unmistakable: he was not going to get away and she was not going to leave. Taking in a deep and somewhat shaky breath of air, he stepped closer to her, mentally bracing himself for what was about to come.


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Sweeney shivered when he felt the wet washcloth against his back. He didn't do so because the fabric was cold; in fact, the water that it was soaked with was just as warm as it had looked when Mrs. Lovett had bought the steaming liquid into her bedroom a few minutes ago. It wasn't even because the warmth was strangely pleasant after the coldness of the basement that he had been in all day, the chilliness of the cellar reaching to his bones even as he had exhausted himself cleaning the entire bakehouse. No, his body trembled because of the knowledge that the seemingly innocent washcloth wasn't moving on its own accord; Mrs. Lovett's hand was in it, and if it weren't for the fabric around her fingers and palm, she would be touching his sensitive skin directly.

If she noticed that he was quivering, she didn't show it. Gently, she moved the washcloth over his back, wetting the thing in the bucket every once in a while to remove the blood from the fabric. After a while, there was something else he could feel, something slippery; apparently, she had found soap somewhere in the mess that was her house and was using this now to clean him. The thought of the baker _washing_ him was one that wasn't easy to process.

He closed his eyes and he wasn't sure whether he did so to make it easier for him to pretend that this was not happening or actually to enjoy it more, reminding himself once again that he should end this ridiculous thing. It was dangerous enough already to live in the same house as the tempting baker without being in such an intimate situation together with her. He knew so well now that she was in love with him and since it was obvious to him that he did not return those feelings, he should keep away from her as much as he possibly could. But then why was he still standing there, allowing her to slide her hand, covered with the washcloth, over his bare back?

She placed a warm hand on his arm, gently making him turn around so the light of the oil lamp illuminated his back. She sighed as she did so; it seemed that there was something about his back that she didn't like. When she began to rub harder, he understand what it was. Even with soap and warm water, the blood stains were hard to remove.

It was quite hard for the barber to remain standing still now that she had focused all her energy and will on cleaning him. She was stronger than she looked, even now that she was pregnant, and Mr. Todd had some difficulty to remain standing where he was.

As if sensing that his legs were about to fail him, the baker temporarily gave up her apparent attempt to remove even the last bit of blood from his pale skin.

"This doesn't work," she said, clearly unsatisfied. "You're too tall; I can't reach for your back properly."

It was the perfect moment for him to say that it didn't matter, that he was perfectly capable of finding a way of cleaning his back on his own. But before he could open his mouth to speak, her hand was on his arms again and she guided him towards her bed. Probably sensing that he was _never_ going to agree with what she had in mind, she pushed him forward.

His limbs were weakened already and not expecting her to do something like that, Sweeney lost his balance and, to his horror, found himself lying on his stomach on Mrs. Lovett's unmade bed one second later, his face buried in one of her pillows which smelled just like her.

He was vaguely aware that she placed the oil lamp on her nightstand, thus bringing him into a circle of light. He tried to get up now that he still had the chance to do so. He didn't fear what was doubtlessly about to come because he thought that he wouldn't like it, but because he was rather sure that he would like it _too much_.

However, only a second later there was once again the gentle pressure of the washcloth against his back and he found that he didn't have the strength and the will to stop her. He did feel awkward however because his head was resting on one of her pillows; the knowledge that she slept every night at the very place that he was currently lying was something that was unacceptable.

He turned his head as far as he could, moving it away from the soft item. It seemed that anything was better than feeling the baker's pillow beneath his face like he just had, but he soon realized that he was wrong.

He could smell the soap now that she was using and he recognized the scent of it almost immediately. It clearly wasn't the one that she usually gave him; it was the one she usually only used herself. He had no idea why she hadn't fetched his own soap, but he found that he had other things to wonder about.

It was miraculous, really, how such a small and innocently looking bar of soap could remind him so much of a human being. When Lucy was still alive, this had never happened. He had always made sure that she could have anything that her heart desired and he could tell that the soap that the baker was using was much cheaper than what he used to buy for his wife. But to him, that had always been just _soap_, even though his wife doubtlessly had known the difference. But still, she had always smelled like Lucy, just like Lucy. Mrs. Lovett however... she smelled like many different things. He had discovered now that this soap was a subtle bit of her scent and he wondered what other things he might be able to identify. It was better than thinking of the fact that this particular part of her was part of him now as well.

As he was lying there, almost completely motionlessly, he felt something soft but firm press against his back. It took him a moment to realize that this was Mrs. Lovett expanded belly, pressing against his body as she leaned over him to wash his back. The touch seemed so innocent, so accidental, but it made him shiver. Never before he had been so close to her child; it felt as if she made clear to him, without being actually aware of it, that she trusted him completely and wasn't afraid of bringing her unborn child close to him. He wasn't sure that he deserved this trust, but for once he was too content and too much at ease to brood about it.

Because of the warmth of the water, the softness of the bed and the gentleness of her hands it seemed as if she wasn't only removing blood, but some of the tension that had been wracking his body for a long time as well.

He lost track of time as he was lying there, surrendering himself to more than just her wish to wash him. At some point, he was rather sure that his back couldn't possibly get any cleaner, but yet, the washcloth was still there, her right hand caressing his skin through the wet and slippery fabric. He knew so well that he should tell her to stop, to leave him alone, but the longer he enjoyed what was happening, the harder it became to end it. The sensations were just too pleasant; they made him feel nervous and at ease at the same time.

She didn't limit herself to his back; the baker also washed his sides, sometimes even trying to reach the front side of his body by probing the washcloth between his frame and the now wet blankets of her bed. He wasn't sure why this was necessary; it was mostly his back and his shoulders that were bloody, because he had heaved the corpses over those parts of his body in order to carry them into the sewer, dumping them far away from the bakehouse.

Sleeping or even resting was something that hadn't been particularly easy to him for numerous years. During his banishment, every moment in which he wasn't completely alert could be abused by the guards or other prisoners in various horrible ways. But even if he would've wanted to sleep, the memories of the life he once had had and the uncertainty regarding the fate of his daughter and wife would've kept him awake. Once he was back in London, he had been worried about being found out, something that had prevented him from actually sleeping as well, just like the nightmares about his recent past did. But as the weeks in which he lived without being recognized in the room that he once had owned under the name of Benjamin Barker, thoughts of his destroyed family dominated his mind once more. But this time, there was no hope of a happy ending. Lucy was gone, and even if Johanna could somehow be freed from the Judge's claws, it would be the young sailor doing so, and not him.

But yet, when he found himself lying on the baker's bed, surrounded by her warm pillow and blankets, and she was gently washing his back, his mind was strangely empty, only aware of how pleasant it was to rest, especially after such tiring work. It was odd indeed that it was none other than the baker who made him feel so much at ease, but at the same time, he had grown quite fond of her presence so perhaps it wasn't that strange at all that he could let his guard down completely around her.

His eyes fluttered closed, but for once, he didn't fight this urge of his body. He just remained lying there, breathing in the auburn haired woman's scent and sensing how she was drawing soothing patterns on his back.

He actually would've fallen asleep if Mrs. Lovett hadn't turned him around, even though he was hardly aware of it. There was only a gentle pressure against his left side and, giving in to it almost immediately, he rolled over, so he was lying on his back. His eyes were still closed; they simply refused to open as long as the delicious warmth was soothing his body.

Mrs. Lovett began washing his chest very carefully and only minutes ago he would've grasped her hand, pulling it away from him, but now he didn't even realize that the reason she was touching him there had nothing to do with blood.

He sighed, but not out of tiredness or frustration this time. If he hadn't felt so sleepy, he would've lifted his hand to place it over hers, if only to make sure that she wouldn't stop moving the washcloth – if only she wouldn't move away from him.

The pattern of her movements changed and after a while it was only her hand that he felt, the fabric of the washcloth having miraculously disappeared, but he was too content to care. Instead, he appreciated the moment, almost forgetting that he was sharing it with Mrs. Lovett – or at least, he was aware that it was _her_, but she seemed to be different and he wasn't sure whether she had actually changed or that it was only the comfort of the moment that made her seem such a loving, tender woman instead of the insufferable landlady she used to be to him.

In retrospect, he was rather sure that he would've fallen asleep while Nellie was at his side, touching him like only Lucy should. But just before he succumbed to the baker at last, her hand suddenly moved lower than it had before, resting on his stomach a moment before continuing its exploration there. Instead of her palm, it were her fingertips now, or even her nails, that were stroking and _caressing_ his skin. What the hell did she think she was doing?

He tensed, holding his breath while his mind began racing. What had he gotten himself into _this _time? Hadn't he reminded himself again and _again_ to prevent him from finding himself in this kind of personal situations with the tempting baker?

His mind was screaming, but his body didn't seem to mind the current developments at all, simply ignoring the pleas of his brain to get away from the hand touching him so inappropriately.

And still, she moved her hand lower, caressing his skin experimentally, _teasingly_... She couldn't _really _mean to...

His body suddenly wasn't at ease any longer. His breath quickened as he realized what the baker might be doing, and so did the beat of his heart. The water and soap on his body mixed with sweat and during a few endless seconds, he was torn between interfering and letting her do what she seemingly intended to.

But then, reality hit him. How could he even _consider_ letting her do this? It was bad enough already that he was in this situation with her in the first place.

His body was trembling again, but with anticipation instead of anything else. His eyes snapped open and he met her gaze, which was focused even more on him than usual, if such a thing was possible.

Getting away from her was the only sensible thing to do. The memories of this moment would haunt him for a long time, bother him with questions starting with 'what if', but it seemed nothing in comparison to having to deal with her now. The problem was that he no longer wanted to prevent all her advances without even thinking about it. Her feelings for him had been difficult enough when he had hardly wanted to have anything to do with her, but nothing had prepared him for this moment, in which a part of him – even though this was only his treacherous body – was actually welcome the feeling of her hand on his skin. But still, his mind was stronger, if only barely.

And thus, when her fingers brushed against the rough material of the edge of his trousers, his hand shot forward, grasping her wrist painfully and yanking it away from him, his heart beating furiously.

If that wasn't a mistake, looking her in the eyes certainly was. There was hurt in them, too much of it, and he couldn't take it. It would've been alright with him if she had smacked his head with a rolling pin, thrown him out of the house, yelled at him because of his tendency to get away from her almost immediately after _he_ had allowed her to come closer to him, both with her body and emotions. Anything would've been better than this, that she didn't react at all and just sat there next to him, with obvious sadness in her eyes.

Once more wanting to be as far away from her as possible and staying with her at the same time, he stood up, his still unsteady legs wobbling beneath him. He made his way out of her bedroom as quickly as he could, slamming the door behind him, the pain that had been visible in her eyes after he had rejected once more burned in his memory.


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Time went by unnoticed as Nellie sat on her bed, the wet washcloth that she had dropped in her lap accidentally soaking her clothes, just like the damp blankets did, but she was hardly aware of it. She was lost in the surreal moment that had ended only minutes ago.

She knew that she had gone too far and that it was all her fault that Mr. Todd had abandoned her once more and probably would refuse to even look at her for a very long time, if not for the rest of his life. But still, she couldn't blame herself. If she would have the chance to redo what had happened, she wouldn't take it. The barber probably hadn't been aware of it at all, but the way he had been lying on her bed, accepting her help without complaining, had been impossible for her to ignore.

He had been so close to her and for the first time since he had come back to London, she could tell that he was really at ease and completely relaxed. She had actually been washing him at first, but he hadn't objected when her movements had become slower and more tender, thus implicitly encouraging her to do things that she shouldn't. But he hadn't even stopped her when she had removed the washcloth from her hand, when she had wanted to feel nothing between his and her skin. She still couldn't really believe that she had been caressing his wet and slippery skin with her bare hand, which had made her shiver even though his body was unexpectedly warm.

For years, she could only _dream_ of something like that, and now that it had happened after all, it seemed as if it was nothing more than that – a dream – as if it truly was too good to be true. That this was, for once, nothing but reality only became fully clear to her when he had left her abruptly. His body had felt so warm just before he had almost ran away from her – he had probably been burning with anger. She really wasn't disappointed with him, just like she didn't blame herself. She had experienced a heavenly moment and even though he wouldn't have provided it in the first place if he had known what she would do when she had completed cleaning his back, she _had_ seen and felt more of him than she ever had and ever would.

Before he had made his way out of her bedroom as quickly as he could, he _had _accepted her, only a few contented sighs – one of the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard – had confirmed the fact that he hadn't simply fallen asleep and there was nothing that could take that memory away from her.

It had been so perfect, but of course, it hadn't been enough for her. Only a few weeks ago, she would've been happy for a long time if only she could see a glimpse of the skin that was usually covered by thick layers of fabric. But even when she had just been able to see his entire back, had had the opportunity to wash it - as if just seeing him wasn't overwhelming enough yet – she had wanted more.

To her surprise, he had allowed her to roll him on his back, and she could get to know another part of his frame quite well. But still, seeing and even touching his chest with her hand wasn't enough to keep her as calm as she should be around Mr. Todd, especially in such a situation. His skin had looked so appealing in the dim light, the scars on his body only proving how strong and determined he was. The clenching muscles of his lower torso had almost _begged_ her to touch them, especially when she had noticed that the fabric of his trousers had been damp with the water she had been using to wash him, the black material clinging to his lower body in a sinfully delicious way. It was no surprise, really, that he had done what he had done, and deep inside, she was relieved that he had forced her to stop at last. Even she didn't know what she would've done if he hadn't yanked her hand away – would she have actually _unbuttoned_ his trousers like her unreliable hand had planned to do at that very moment?

But it didn't matter; it hadn't happened and it never would. She only hoped that this wouldn't destroy their fragile friendship and that it wouldn't make the chance that he would be willing to watch over her at night only smaller.

But strangely, in spite of what just had happened and how he had left her, she was somehow sure that this was the right moment to ask him to stay with her at night in the future, only to keep an eye on her just in case she would go into labor at night.

In spite of the way he had reacted to her, she sensed that if he wouldn't agree with it now, he never would. She hadn't seen the barber this calm since he had returned to London; even in the old days she couldn't remember him being as much at ease as he just had been.

She could only wish that _she _was the reason that he was relaxing now at last, but she knew better than that. It probably was the warmth of the water, or perhaps the comfort of the bed. It had doubtlessly nothing to do with _her_, but one could always hope.

However, even though she knew this was probably the best moment to ask, she didn't know _how _to, especially not after what just had happened. Never before she had seen him relax like he had just done and she was very sure that this had improved his usual sour mood and thus the chance that he would accept her request.

Sighing, she threw the washcloth back in the bucket of water, not caring when the reddish contents of it splashed on the floor. She moved over to a part of the bed where the blankets weren't wet yet, which wasn't a very easy thing to do since her child was in the way.

Patting her belly absentmindedly, her other hand moving over the floor to check if that part of her bedroom had become part of the growing pool as well without having to turn around and look. Her fingers felt nothing wet, but did found something else that wasn't supposed to be there. Frowning, she picked up the strange object, lifting it in front of her eyes.

To her surprise, it was one of her favorite dresses that she was holding – only, it was covered in blood and it was cut to pieces. Although he had never said so, she knew that Sweeney had done this. She had no idea why he had thought that it was necessary to destroy the dress the way he had, but it was quite a thing that he had bothered to do so in the first place.

She scrutinized the material, imaging how the barber had used his most beloved possession to cut the fabric. Almost immediately, images of how it had happened sprang to her mind. Even though she had been asleep or even unconscious at that time, the vision was so vivid that she could almost _remember_ how he had leaned over her, his hands brushing against her skin while he made sure not to hurt her with the sharp metal of the razor. In spite of herself, she couldn't suppress a shudder of delight that accompanied the knowledge that Mr. Todd had done something like that to help her.

The dress was, she thought, her life with Mr. Todd in a nutshell. He did things with her that she had no control over, he made one big mess of things and then left as if nothing had happened. And yet, she couldn't help but love him – she never could.

Realizing that it wouldn't be easier by simply lingering in her bedroom and postponing the confrontation by doing so, she stood up and made her way to Mr. Todd's tonsorial parlor, picking up a towel and the shirt that he failed to take with him earlier in his rush to get away from her. He really was impossible, hurrying back to his room in this cold weather without wearing anything but his trousers. She hoped that no one had seen him; even though they were supposed to be married now – or rather, because of this - his behavior was rather suspicious.

Feeling how cold it was she took a spare blanket with her. Just because he wouldn't use it, didn't mean that she couldn't bring it. Shivering with cold herself as she went upstairs to his room, she forced herself to walk slowly and carefully, remembering herself not to do anything that might harm the child.

A windy and rainy moment later she found herself right before the door to the barber's room, but what was awaiting her inside was probably much more unpleasant than what she had to endure outside.

Mustering her courage, she knocked on the wooden door, not expecting any reaction. Thus it was a surprise when she heard Sweeney's voice a moment later, giving her permission to come in. She didn't know whether he did so because he actually wanted to see her or because he felt that she wouldn't leave anyway before she had spoken to him. The former seemed more likely, unfortunately.

"I... I have to ask you something," she said as she stepped into his room, trying her luck before he would do something that would make her lose her courage. It was not that she had much left of it anyway; not now that she was standing in front of him at last, trying not to stare at his partly uncovered form as the too few ideas that she had come up with to ask him melted away beneath his dark gaze. This was going to be even harder than she had feared when Mrs. Lucas had mentioned it for the first time.


End file.
